The Hobbit and The Snow Queen
by moviedragon009
Summary: After fleeing her kingdom out of fear, a former Queen has found peace in a foreign world. But what happens when a wandering wizard and a company of dwarfs (plus one hobbit) seek her help in reclaiming a lost kingdom?
1. Chapter 1: Queen of Isolation

There were times when Elsa's dreams would take her to a place she used to call home. There were dreams of vast palace halls lined with dozens of works of art, of warm beds and sumptuous meals, of elegant balls, and of a mother and father with loving eyes and protective arms. And then there were dreams of Anna; sweet, loving, naïve, sometimes pushy Anna. Her strawberry blonde hair, blue green eyes, and wide smile shone so brightly in those dreams…

Then there were nightmares where Anna's face was blank and silent, a white streak piercing her reddish hair, of a pair of tombstones adorned with names that shouldn't have been there; nightmares where faces of strangers stared at her in shock and awe, of darkness and loneliness. Above it all, she could hear a voice, no, many voices, all crying out a single, terrible word:

"_MONSTER_!"

These dreams were Elsa's only companions, the only surviving reminders of what she had left behind when the gloves came off and the storm was unleashed. When that happened, she ran across ocean waters turned to ice, through forests that became blanketed in snow, and over mountains piercing through the storm clouds. She wandered over those mountains, and kept going on and on until the land was no longer familiar, and only stopped when she could no longer walk…only to find herself passing through a shower of glowing pieces of glass, and into another place that brimmed with what she could only describe as magic.

For Elsa, home was no longer those vast palace halls where she had struggled to contain the storm; that place was becoming more and more distant and alien. Home for her became a cavern furnished with ice to become an elegant, if not homely, dwelling, in the side of a cliff in a secluded forest laying in a strange land where the people spoke in strange tongues. Home for her became a place where she found herself battling horrible creatures astride monstrous wolves every now and then, and where she caught glimpses of beautiful people wandering through the forests like angels…angels with pointed ears. Home for her became a place called Middle-Earth.

Here, no one bowed to Elsa and called her Queen; as far as the world was concerned, she was merely the quiet, white-haired stranger who came to town every now and then, hauling ice to sell and to buy food, and then wandered back into the forest. No one knew of her secret dwelling place where she could be alone and practice her powers, as she had made it so…and surely as it was meant to be. She was home, and home to her meant freedom. Here, maybe she was a Queen, if only a Queen of Isolation—if only she hadn't tossed aside the crown that might've proved it.

For once in her life, she had found a moment of peace where she spun fractals of ice in the air on a warm, sunny day. Sitting on a block of perpetual ice, she felt serene as she watched birds and insects fly through the beams of sun that passed through the boughs of the trees and heard the songs of nature. Moments of serenity like this had been rare back in Arendelle, seeing how she had lived in a near constant state of paranoia, but here she found more time to breath easily than she knew what to do with…with the exception of the bloodthirsty barbarian every now and then. Even that, however, proved to be to her benefit.

Some internal clock within her signaled the need to attend to other matters. Sighing, she got onto her feet, and turned towards the crystal doors, away from the warmth of the sun…

"Pardon me, young lady…"

Elsa spun around in surprise at the voice. There stood an old man with a long ashy grey beard wearing grey robes and a tall, blue, pointed hat where there had been no one before, holding a wooden staff in his hands. She didn't know what to do or what to think; no one had ever come here before, and she had been certain the place was secret. "How did you find me here?" she demanded.

"My apologies for startling you, my dear," the old man replied, "But I was curious as to how it could be so cool in the dead of August, and I forthwith investigated."

"Well," Elsa replied, gathering her thoughts as to what the proper response would be to give someone of his aptitude, "…I'm sorry, it's just that, I don't get that many visitors, at all."

The old man didn't seem to hear what she said. "I see you have a knack for a…certain brand of magic," he observed. "Pardon my curiosity, but I have not seen such a power before…"

Fear started to well up in her, bringing her back to the days living in fear. The last time she had been discovered, she had retreated. Now, however, there was nowhere to run.

"Please don't tell anyone," she pleaded, "Just leave me be. I'll do anything. Whatever it is you want I can provide it."

This offer seemed to catch his attention. He grumbled in an analytical way, and then replied, "Well, I may be looking for someone to share in an adventure."

Elsa found herself caught off guard. What sort of people offered 'adventures'?

"An…adventure?" she asked suspiciously. "I don't even know your name."

"Well, my name is Gandalf, and Gandalf means…well, it means me. And you, Elsa, might just possess the necessary skills to assist on a certain quest."

The more and more this 'Gandalf' spoke, the more and more awe and confusion wrapped itself like a constricting serpent around Elsa's mind.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, "And…what kind of quest are you talking about?"

"Well," Gandalf replied, "Perhaps it would be better if I brought the others to discuss the details more thoroughly."

Others? There were more like him? "No no no, please," she begged, "I don't want anyone here…"

"Well then, perhaps if you met them instead? Would you be willing to consider that?"

Elsa wrestled with the idea in her head. Was it really worth it to go with this strange man and meet these "others"? A suspicion lingered in her mind that perhaps they wanted to DO things to her; a young woman in the middle of the woods might certainly seem like easy prey, and she felt defenseless enough...But then her mind flipped back to the number of orcs who had been unfortunate enough to try and rob her.

"Very well," she replied, coming down from her perch "I'll come with you, and see what this is about. But that's it."

Gandalf smiled, obviously pleased. "Well, pardon my obtrusiveness, but you need far less persuasion than some people I know."

Elsa shot back, "Who knows? I may need far more persuasion than most people you know."

"We shall see about that," he replied.


	2. Chapter 2: Negotiating With the Company

The wizard had been gone for more than a few hours, and Bilbo Baggins began to get concerned. Sitting on a crop of stone, he glanced down at the edge of the wood where Gandalf had gone; in the daylight, he could make out frost and bits of ice clinging onto the sides of the trees. He felt conflicted; the Tookish side of him was deathly curious as to what strange creature was able to chill the air in the dead of summer, but the Baggins side of him would rather that they leave whatever it was alone and keep on moving (and if all else failed, get back to Bag End).

Yet another part of him felt concerned for Gandalf; it wasn't so much concern as to whether the wizard could get out alive so much as it was concern over whether he would get back before Thorin went ahead and moved on without him. He could easily see the restlessness pervading the rest of the company; their last meal had been naught but a few hours ago, and grumbles of impatience rippled through the group. The elders sat around the small fire they had stoked, while the younger ones hung close to the ponies, ready to jump on the saddle and head out.

"Of all the things to go off and investigate, it had to be a puff of cold air," the tall, brawny tattooed Dwalin muttered, shoving a piece of sausage past his dark beard and munching it.

"Aye, in this heat," Dori remarked, "I would've taken it as a blessing and moved on. Who knows how much this will have set us back!"

"Curious that you should note the weather," Bofur noted with a wry smile, "after begging Gandalf for an end to yesterday's rainstorm; was that too cold for you?"

The others laughed at the irony, while Dori lowered his gaze in contemptuous shame at the jab.

Bilbo turned the other way and saw Thorin further out toward the edge of the group, looking towards the east. It reminded the hobbit of the night where he first heard of the Battle of Azanulbizar in a very uncanny way. He wondered how often he stood like that…

Thorin then turned back, his expression showing just what was on his mind. "We're moving out," he declared, "pack up your things and let's get going".

That was precisely what Bilbo was afraid of.

"But what about Gandalf?" he protested, "We can't just leave him."

"I will not risk this quest for any unnecessary side trip," the Dwarf King replied, "He will have to catch up."

The rest of the dwarves started to shuffle into place, the pace differing among them; already Fili and Kili had mounted their ponies, while it took a great deal of persuasion to distract Bombur from the remains of his meal. Bilbo, meanwhile, stood still in the commotion, gently appalled.

Balin, taking notice stood up and sighed. "I would be too worried about it, laddie," he quietly said under his breath to Bilbo, "I've got a feeling this might happen more often than we'd like it to; you can't really trust wizards to stay in one place for too long."

Just then, a voice halted them all more thoroughly than Thorin's command had compelled them forward; "And just where do you think you are going?"

Bilbo turned back around, relieved to see Gandalf striding out of the forest shadows and into the light—which, now that he thought about it, was the exact opposite of what he might have felt a few days prior to this quest.

"I only leave your side for a few hours, and you decide to depart without me?" the wizard retorted as he approached the group, "Very inconsiderate of you, Thorin Oakenshield."

"I was under the assumption," Thorin replied from astride his pony, "that you wouldn't have delayed us for so long. Did you find what you were looking for, might I ask?"

"Indeed I did," Gandalf replied, "I think you'll be very pleased to meet…" He turned around, but seemed surprised to find no one behind him, leaving him somewhat miffed—a rare expression for a wizard, Bilbo felt sure. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, returning towards the forest edge. He peered around a tree, and then went back into the woods, the pantomime of his movements suggesting a one-sided discussion. Or was it?

Bilbo noticed then that the ice nearby had grown thicker…and had the air gotten colder, too? He could faintly see his own breath. What strange creature of Middle-Earth had Gandalf lured that could do such a thing? Wary of the possibility of treachery, Bilbo backed away into the crowd of dwarves, assuming that the center was the safest place to be should things turn ugly.

After a few moments, the wizard returned once again—this time, a woman, wearing her white hair in a long braid, followed after him. This took Bilbo by surprise, and he let himself relax. In spite of the fact that she was dressed in simple, unassuming cloth of common browns over an icy blue, she walked in a regal sort of way, almost enough to make Bilbo feel the need to bow, though he wasn't sure why. She looked over every member of the company, surprised at what she saw. Her gaze briefly swept over Bilbo, almost ignorant of him, but he certainly didn't ignore her. He found himself entranced by her sapphire eyes, and wondered if she were some sort of elf—only to be corrected by the shape of her ears. Peering to his right, he observed that the dwarves had similar reactions to his, especially Kili, who seemed to have wondered the same thing, noticed the same thing, and for some reason appeared dismayed at the results.

After a moment, the women spoke at last. "You're…dwarves?" she said, as if she had never seen dwarves before.

"Indeed, and we're proud of it, fair lady of the woods!" Fili shouted out from behind the group. A quick jab humbled him.

Gandalf stepped up as Thorin moved his pony forward to meet her.

"Everyone," Gandalf said, "Allow me to introduce Elsa of…" At a loss, he turned to Elsa for a bit of help.

"I'd rather not say," she said, "It doesn't matter anyway."

After Gandalf introduced her to Thorin, the Dwarf King asked, "And to what purpose has this meeting?"

"Well, Elsa here is considering becoming a member of our company," Gandalf replied. At this statement, some of the other dwarves looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Whispers started to abound, with, "A woman on a quest?" to "What is Gandalf thinking?" being the most prominent and basic.

Thorin, on the other hand, seemed to have different concerns. "Can she fight?" he inquired.

"Fight? Well, um…I can defend myself, if that's what you're asking," she answered. After a pause, she returned, "Against what? For what purpose is this quest of yours?"

It was then that their reasons, albeit briefly, were explained to the woman; they told her of the Lonely Mountain and the Kingdom of Erebor, the wealth and power of the Dwarven Kings of old and the prosperity of all those who fell under the influence of their reign, and more importantly of Smaug the Tyrannical and of his conquering of the mountain. Even though he had heard this story before, it still filled Bilbo with a fair amount of dread hearing of the dragon. He could see a similar reaction in Elsa's eyes, but multiplied by a great deal. It also seemed coupled with disbelief; had she, like him, only heard of dragons in folktales?

After the essentials were laid out, Balin stepped forward with the very same contract that Bilbo had signed just days before, and handed it to Elsa. "Just be aware," he told her, "that there will be some necessary corrections made to the contract, especially concerning the share of the treasure."

Elsa took it, and stepped away to look over it for a moment. Thorin, meanwhile moved closer to Gandalf and whispered to him, "Why the girl, Gandalf? How many more do you need to attach to this company before you're satisfied?" Bilbo overheard this, and couldn't help but feel somewhat undignified; did Thorin consider him a spare wheel as well?

"She may be of use on this quest," Gandalf replied, "And considering our enemy, we need all the help we can get."

"I don't even know what KIND of help she can provide."

"For her sake, I am not obliged to divulge such information. You'll have to take her word, and mine."

Just then, Elsa returned. She handed the contract back to Balin and said, "I'm sorry, but I cannot join you."

Bilbo felt something wither inside him at her words.

"Don't misunderstand, I empathize with the plight of your people," she explained, "But I feel that I would be a burden to you. You have my blessing, though."

Gandalf seemed more than dismayed at this, while Thorin was clearly unsurprised. "Alright, move on," he shouted, and soon the entire company was on the move. Bilbo suddenly found himself hoisted into the air and onto the back of Myrtle, his pony.

As soon as they had gone off some distance, the dwarves started talking again:

"Well, that was an unnecessary detour," Óin remarked.

"Not to mention an unexpected disappointment," Nori observed.

"She was very pretty," Ori spoke, "For a human."

"Oi, who wants to place wagers now?" Bofur shouted out, but was met with a decidedly negative reaction.

Bilbo, meanwhile, twisted around in his saddle and watched as Elsa went swiftly back into the trees, followed by Gandalf. Clearly the wizard wanted her very much on this mission, but for what purpose? To his own surprise, he also felt somewhat depressed that she wouldn't come…and yet he had the oddest feeling that it wouldn't be the last time he saw her.

* * *

><p>In the forest, the wizard followed closely in Elsa's footsteps as he made his case. "Please, I beg you to reconsider your position on this, Elsa!" he pleaded, "Surely you must understand what it is we're fighting for!"<p>

"I do," she replied, but without turning to face him, "but I am also aware of what danger you're heading into. All I'll do is make things worse; you can take my word for it."

"How long have you been hiding away in that cavern?" he demanded. "How long have you been shying away from the contact of others? I tell you, that dragon is of more danger than you could imagine. Think of how many lives we could save!"

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him.

"And what of the lives that could be taken because of us?" she shot back, "Because of me! There's a reason I left the place of my birth…I don't need any more blood on my hands."

Before Gandalf could say anything else, she waved her hand, and a wall of thick, jagged ice erupted between her and Gandalf, but not before she said farewell. She resumed her journey back towards the dwelling.

Gandalf stood there for a long time before he left to rejoin the company. "Well," he said to himself, "it appears she was right...not so easily persuaded after all."


	3. Chapter 3: Visions and Trolls

Nighttime had fallen long ago, but sleep, it seemed, decided to abandon Elsa this time. She restlessly paced around her bedroom in the dark, unable to tire herself. Never before did insomnia plague her as much as it did this night—and yet, it didn't do so for the reasons she'd grown accustomed to.

The thought of Gandalf and his band of dwarves kept coming back to her and keeping her up, no matter how much she tried to put them out of her mind. Why, she asked herself, why them? They were a minor occurrence, nothing more; as far as she was concerned, that encounter with them barely happened. So why did she keep thinking of them? How come she couldn't think of anything else?

"I need some fresh air," she said to herself.

A few paces later, she came up to the ice doors that sealed off the mouth of the cavern from the outside; the only thing it failed to block was the light of the moon casting exotic colors onto the floor. Pushing them aside, she stood outside her home and in the pale moonlight that seemed to add an extra sense of magic to the ice lining the walls outside of the entrance. Beyond the clearing that basically serviced as a front yard, there stood the forest; by day it was soft and comforting, but at night, it seemed dark and sinister. Only piercing beams of moonlight illuminated the shadows and the sounds of owls and other nocturnal birds broke the silence.

None of it deterred Elsa, however; the wolf-riding devils hadn't roamed this part of the country for a long time, and she had little to fear. A forest stroll would do her some good; for all she knew, she might even run into an angel this time. For all she knew, she definitely needed one.

Walking away from the security of her abode, she began wandering aimlessly through the thick, gnarled trees that made the forest, breathing in the fresh, clean air. Now she could think properly…so why did Gandalf and the Dwarves preoccupy her thoughts so much? Could it be because they had been so foreign to her? Was it because of the terribleness of the trouble they were in? What was it?

In the time that passed after she left her home, Elsa became lost simultaneously in the serenity of the night and her own contemplation. She hardly noticed the trail of frost that she left with every step, nor the snowflakes whirling around her. Too much was on her mind to concentrate on that.

_What's wrong, Elsa?_

Startled, she turned to see who had spoken, but found no one. It sounded so familiar…but perhaps it had been nothing. She continued along her chosen path; maybe a little bit further, she would finally feel the need to rest and come back home, and have totally forgotten about the dwarves when she woke up in the morning...

_Come on, Elsa; don't lock me out this time. I've gotten WAY too used to that._

Elsa turned again, and tears almost burst like fountains when she saw her sister standing across from her. There she was, with her blue green eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and a gentle smile…what was she doing here? Elsa wanted to ask her how she could have possibly gotten here…but then she noticed how hazy, almost transparent her sister was, shimmering in the dark.

Then a new possibility hit Elsa, a horrifying, heart-breaking possibility, one that seemed all too likely given what had happened in the past. The wind and snow began to swirl faster and faster around her as she fell to her knees. "Please, forgive me" she began, "I'm so sorry…"

_Oh come on, Elsa, I'm not dead! _The vision assured her, doing her best to calm her, _And I'm certainly not gonna haunt you, either. Besides, I don't think I'd make a very good ghost._

It took Elsa a moment to take in what she had said, but when it did, it made far more sense than a ghostly apparition. "So you're a figment of my imagination?" she deduced, "Great, then I must finally be coming undone." Sighing, Elsa turned and went further on into the forest. The vision, though it didn't walk, followed close behind.

_It's that wizard guy, and all those dwarves, isn't it? _She asked. _You don't know whether you want to help them on their quest or not._

Was it really worth her time to entertain a vision? Perhaps this really was madness settling in…or perhaps madness had settled in a long time ago. Perhaps this was some manifestation of her subconscious speaking to her…then again, she needed someone to talk to.

"Why should I?" she asked.

_Well, I think it would be good for you to get out and meet some new people._

She had to give the vision some credit; that definitely sounded like something Anna would say.

"I spent my entire life trying NOT to meet new people," Elsa replied, pushing back a low-lying branch out of her way, "And I assume that you already know why."

_Well, if they're going up against a dragon, it sounds like they need all the help they can get._

"What does it matter?" Elsa replied. "I already said no, and they've already left."

_Maybe you said no with your lips, but I don't think you did so with your heart. I think deep down, you really want to go._

Elsa stopped at that moment; she stood near the edge of a huge cliff overlooking the rest of the forest, and of the country beyond. Elsa stopped to take in the view; the forest trees looked for all the world like the shimmering skin of some strange beast, and beyond that stretched the vast plain littered with jagged rocks and lone trees. Up above, the stars sparkled innocently in the vastness of the sky.

_And you know what? I really think it's a good idea, _the vision insisted. _You could least get a little bit of traveling and sightseeing in._

"They'd call me a monster," Elsa claimed. "That's what everyone else did."

_Well, maybe this time you can be the hero_, the vision suggested.

Then Elsa noticed a small yellow glow in the forest below, not too far away from her position. She was close enough to hear roars, yells, and screams; sounds of a struggle, undoubtedly. Someone had to be in trouble.

Then she noticed something about the sounds: the screams and yells belonged to familiar voices, which she had but heard only the day before.

* * *

><p>She found zipping through the forest on a slide of ice, the wind blowing in her hair and causing her cloak to whip around behind her. Gravity propelled her along in her rush.<p>

Eventually, she made out the golden glow of firelight peeking out through the trees and bushes, and upon getting closer, she heard voices bickering and arguing amongst themselves. She hopped off her slide and rolled onto the ground as it collapsed into pieces. Now in the foliage, she quietly made her way forward, until at last she could hear three booming voices overshadowing calls for help and pleas for mercy:

"Don't botha cookin' em. Let's just si' on them, and squash 'em into jelly!" one voice asked, malevolence writhing in the timbre.

"They should be sautéed, and grilled with a sprinklin' o' sage," a far deeper one contended.

"…Oh, that DOES sound quite nice!" the first one agreed.

"Never mind the seasoning," yet another voice ordered, "We haven't got all noight! Dawn ain't far away; let's get a move on!"

Elsa moved to peer around a tree, and recoiled at what she saw; three huge, elephant-skinned monsters wearing scraps of leather clothing stood around a bonfire, above which several dwarves were strapped to what she could only guess was a massive, crude rotating spit; the other dwarves were lying not too far away, stuffed into large burlap sacks with only their heads poking out.

Her mind raced to find a worthwhile solution to the problem; but how could she fight three giant creatures on her own? Judging from the cuts and bruises on the monster's legs and arms, it seemed that the dwarves had tried and failed. There had to be a wiser solution…

Just then, a new voice popped up, saying, "WAIT! You are making a terrible mistake!" The owner, one of the dwarves, stood up in his sack and…wait a moment. Elsa recognized something different about this one; in the firelight, she could see that this one didn't have a single hair to show on his face, and also had a pair of pointed ears. He was even shorter than the other dwarves, no more than three feet at the most. Perhaps he wasn't even a dwarf to begin with…

Above the protest of the others, the non-dwarf continued, "I meant about the seasoning."

"What about the seasoning?" The monster in the apron inquired.

"Well, have you smelled them? You're going to need a lot more than sage before you can plate this lot up."

That surprised Elsa to no end, not to mention resulted in an eruption of angry protests and accusations of treason from the dwarves. Why would he say that?

But, rather suddenly, it dawned on her.

He was buying time.

Then she got an idea. Concentrating hard, she managed to muster as much of her power as she could, and focus a small glowing ball in her hands. The not-dwarf continued with his 'cooking tips', much to the chagrin of the others, but Elsa didn't hear any of it. This next trick was going to be big, and she needed to focus.

By the time she felt ready, though, the beasts didn't seem to be taking the not-dwarf very seriously anymore. "You think I don't know wot you're up to?" One of them growled, "This lil' ferret is taking us for fools!"

"Ferret?" the not-dwarf protested.

"_FOOLS?_" the monster in the apron gasped.

She then stepped forward into the open before them all. "For some reason," she smiled, "I wouldn't doubt that."

The beasts turned in surprise, only to find themselves blinded by three powerful blasts of ice and wind. They probably would have stumbled and fell on top of their victims, had Elsa not been fast enough to encase each one of them in a cocoon of solid ice.

It all happened so fast. By the time Elsa managed to slow down and catch her breath, the sun had risen, exposing a rather comical scene of giant creatures frozen in place and dwarves popping their heads out of a layer of fine snow.

A few moments passed, and she began to hear a sound that she had never heard before; cheering. The dwarves were cheering for HER. It was such a strange, foreign experience to her, and as such she struggled to remember the proper way to respond to it.

"Miss Elsa, that was incredible!" She turned around to find the non-dwarf right behind her, beaming at first, but then shying away once they made eye contact. "Erm, I mean, well, that was, in the nick of time, if I should say so."

She bent down to help him out of the sack. "You weren't too bad yourself, Mister…"

"Baggins," he said as he pulled himself out, "Bilbo Baggins, at your service,"

"And, you're not a dwarf?"

"No, actually, I'm a hobbit of the Shire."

"I've never heard of a hobbit, before."

"Well, most people don't seem to have."

Just then, a long shadow covered them all. "Well, Miss Elsa," Gandalf's voice said from high up on a rock, "it looks like you've stolen my entrance." He climbed down to meet them, beaming. "Let me just say I didn't expect to see you, again."

"Neither did I expect to see any of you," Elsa replied.

Gandalf then took a look at the frozen beasts quite admirably. "Well now," he remarked, "this is quite a scene, isn't it? Most aren't so lucky when it comes to dealing with trolls, or quite so efficient."

Trolls? They were trolls? Elsa's mind flashed back to the small round creatures of stone that she had encountered years before; surely these horrible creatures couldn't be one and the same? But before she could dwell on it any further, Gandalf, to her horror, raised his staff and whacked at the ice covering one of the trolls, shattering the layer to pieces. It all fell off like a broken shell, but instead of an angry troll, there stood only a large statue of an angry troll.

"It turned to stone?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," Gandalf explained, "Sunlight will do the trick."

One of the dwarves on the spit spoke up. "Pardon me, but if anyone could help us down, I'd be graciously obliged."

* * *

><p>A few hours later, all the dwarves had been freed, and many of them had taken to mocking the huge statues that had once threatened to devour them. Elsa and Gandalf, meanwhile, stood afar off with smiles on their faces. Thorin, at that moment, came up to the two of them. "Where did you go off to, I may ask?" he said to Gandalf.<p>

"To look ahead," Gandalf replied.

"What brought you back?"

"Looking behind. Nasty business. Still, you're all in one piece."

The dwarf then turned to Elsa. Despite the fact that she was far taller than him, she felt somewhat intimidated in the presence of this warrior. "And what about you?" he inquired of her, "What brought you to the rescue?"

She had to gather her thoughts for a moment. "I was thinking about your offer, and about your quest. I realized that I certainly wasn't doing anyone any favors just sitting alone in the woods."

"Your point being?" Thorin asked.

"That I've decided to join you on your quest", she replied.

At this, Gandalf beamed brighter than ever. Thorin, meanwhile, rolled his eyes, and shouted, "Balin! Do you still have that contract?" Gandalf then whispered, "Well, it seems you CAN be persuaded, my dear!"

"It all depends on who's doing the persuading," she smiled. It was then that she noticed Bilbo a short distance away, beaming as well, but ducking away when he realized she had looked in his direction. She chuckled to herself, thinking how funny 'hobbits' were.


	4. Chapter 4: Hunters and Hunted

Not too long afterwards, Gandalf and Thorin led the rest of the company to a cavern in the forest, presumably where the trolls had been hiding during the day. Barely a few feet away from the entrance, a horrible stench hit Bilbo's nose, making him reel with nausea. Holding his nose, he peered down into the cavern's mouth as Gandalf, Thorin, Dwalin, Nori, Bofur, and Glóin made the descent, hacking and coughing as they attempted to repel the reek from their lungs. Inside, flies buzzed wildly around a cavern littered with cobwebs, bones, and other rotting things, the picture of death itself as far as he could tell.

He decided, for the sake of his health, to stay outside with the others, who busied themselves by investigating the artifacts lying around the mouth of the cavern; after all, hobbits like himself didn't dwell in nasty, dirty wet holes full of the smell of ooze, and he could hardly imagine himself going in a cave like that.

After a short time, Dwalin and Thorin emerged back from the cave; Thorin, he noticed, carried a new sword, this one possessing long, flowing curves as opposed to the broad, angular dwarvish swords. Bilbo had an inkling of a thought that perhaps it was Elvish in origin—a bit odd for Thorin to be carrying one like it around, he thought. They were followed closely by Nori, Bofur, and Glóin, but a few moments passed before Gandalf reemerged from the cavern. Calling for Bilbo, he bestowed upon him a small blade, shaped somewhat like a narrow leaf; in anyone else's hand it would have been little more than a knife, but it functioned as well as a sword in his hand.

That, however, made him all the more reluctant to carry it, even as he held it in his palms.

"I can't take this," he said.

"The blade is of Elvish make," Gandalf informed him, "which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby."

"I have never used a sword in my life!" he protested.

"And I hope you never have to," Gandalf said, "And if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing when not to take a life, but when to spare one."

Those words hung in Bilbo's mind as he distanced himself from the others and sat down on a flat stone. Only then did he realize how exhausted he was after all that had happened the night before. If adventures were always like this, he thought, he hoped there would at least be SOME opportunity to get in some shuteye.

At that moment, he realized that the air had become increasingly cold. He turned, and found that Elsa herself had also chosen the exact same stone to sit on. He jumped in surprise, fear and joy simultaneously clashing together.

"Oh, I am so sorry," he stammered, "I didn't—well you see I…"

"No, no, it's okay," she said, "I don't mind."

Calmed by the reassurance of her soft voice, he sat back down, somewhat awkwardly this time. Silence fluttered around in the air between them, and soon Bilbo couldn't stand it any longer. He felt that, at the very least, he should welcome the stranger and get to know her, but he struggled to think of what to say. His mind flashed through several opening lines, and yet each one seemed inadequate for the purposes. Should he say anything? What if he did say something and it offended her? Why did any of this matter to begin with?

Fortunately, Elsa spoke before he could blunder over his words. "Forgive me, but I'm kind of curious," she said, "Why are you here? How did you get involved in this?"

Though she had caught him somewhat off guard, Bilbo gathered himself to recollect as much as he could. "As you might imagine, it was mostly Gandalf's fault," he replied, and told her of how Gandalf had come to his doorstep offering adventure, his initial refusal, and of how twelve dwarves managed to invade his home, pillage his pantry, and came very close (in his opinion) to destroying his mother's valued cutlery and china porcelain dishes. "And yet, after all that," he went on, "here I am. And the thing is that I'm not entirely sure why I'm here to begin with. Of course they need a burglar and all that, but I was so dead set on not going at all."

"What changed your mind?" she asked.

"Well, the next day they were just gone," he explained, "and for some reason they had left the contract on the table. Maybe it was my mother's side of the family talking then, but I thought to myself, 'When am I going to get another chance like this, to explore the world for once instead of reading about it?' Next thing I know, I'm running out the front door, and here I am."

"You're very brave for doing so," she remarked.

"Tell you the truth, I'm not sure 'brave' is the proper word," he joked.

Suddenly, everyone became alert to the sound of foliage being crushed beneath beating hooves, startling and causing birds to flee. At Gandalf's word, everyone leaped to their feet and moved out, weapons bared and ready to greet the intruder. Rushing to stay with the rest of the group, Bilbo cautiously drew his sword out, staring in awe at the elegance of the blade in his hands.

They stood at the ready in a rough semi-circle, prepared for anything…save for the mid-sized chestnut horse with a long tangled mane and shaggy fur that burst into the clearing, carrying on its back a small wild-looking man dressed in brown robes and wearing a hat that gave him the appearance of having large animal ears. Bits of dirt and white streaks covered his clothes and even the side of his face, giving Bilbo the impression that this was not someone he'd invite to come into his smial.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" he shouted as his steed galloped and halted a short distance away from some of the dwarves. As soon as the horse stopped, the rider looked around, apparently as confused as much as everyone else. Gandalf, on the other hand, sighed in relief, "Radagast! What are you doing here?"

Dismounting the horse, Radagast came up to Gandalf, whispering, "I came looking for you! You have no idea how far I've been riding!"

"What on earth is the matter?"

"I will tell you," Radagast replied, "Something's terribly wrong! We must discuss this immediately!" The two of them walked off a short distance, speaking in hushed voices so that the others wouldn't hear.

Elsa leaned over to Bilbo. "Who was that?" she asked.

It took Bilbo a moment, but then he remembered the last time he had heard the name before. "Oh, erm, Radagast the Brown, I think he's called. Apparently he's a wizard like Gandalf."

"Is he a great wizard, or is he…?"

"Apparently Gandalf thinks so, but I'm not too sure myself," Bilbo mused. "Whatever he's here for, it must be important."

Bofur, leaning against a large moss covered stone, then spoke up, "Whatever it is, I hope it's not to add another member to the company—no offense, miss."

Before they knew it, the two wizards had returned, with Gandalf putting something away into the fold of his robes. "I'm telling you Gandalf," Radagast was saying, "We can't let this go unnoticed for long. I cannot stand and watch the creatures of Greenwood suffer like this."

But before Gandalf could respond, a noise like a deep, guttural howl moaned through the forest, setting everyone's hair on end.

Bilbo looked around, frightened and confused. "Was that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?" he asked.

"Wolf?" Bofur said, "No, that is not a wolf!"

He then saw Elsa, whose eyes had grown wide with fear.

"I know that sound," she whispered.

At the sound of a snapping twig and a harsh growl, the two of them twisted around to see a massive dog-like beast clothed in dark grey fur, bearing a massive head filled with dagger-like teeth, and glaring at them with blazing orange eyes. It roared as it leapt into the air towards them with malicious intent, only to find itself impaled on a massive icicle that for all intents and purposes had come out of nowhere. The animal shrieked and whined as its hot blood dripped onto the crystal ice, melting and mixing with it. Bilbo turned to see a side of Elsa that he did not expect; her arm stretched out and an icy glare emanating from her narrowed blue eyes. It both intimidated him and fascinated him at the same time.

Another wolf-beast came from behind; it charged at Thorin, but an arrow from Kili felled it, and a swing of Dwalin's axe put it out of its misery.

"Warg scouts," Thorin concluded, "which means an orc pack is not far behind."

"Orc _pack_?" Bilbo said in disbelief. Given what he had heard about orcs previously, he had no eagerness to run into a whole group of them.

"Who did you tell about your quest," Gandalf demanded of Thorin, "beyond your kin?"

"No one," Thorin said.

"WHO DID YOU TELL?" Gandalf demanded again.

"No one, I swear! What is going on?"

"You are being _hunted_," Gandalf declared solemnly. At the sound of this, the dwarves clutched their respective weapons tighter than Bilbo had seen them do before. More roars echoed in the distance as Ori and Bifur returned to the group. "The ponies!" Ori gasped, "They've bolted!" Bilbo couldn't help but roll his eyes. After all the hard work he did to save them…

"I'll draw them off," Radagast offered as he calmed his fearful horse.

"These are Gundabad wargs," Gandalf protested, "They will outrun you!"

"Wimbledon is no ordinary horse, and he has plenty of strength in him," Radagast replied, "I'd like to see them try."

Elsa then stepped forward. "We're going to need more than that," she said, her voice taking on a tone of seriousness all its own, "if you want to survive."

* * *

><p>The wargs and orcs outside and within the forest felt their blackened hearts freeze in terror at the sight of a huge icy fog rushing through the forest and blocking out the sun above. It washed over them like a wave of the sea, bathing them in freezing, unnatural cold. "What sorcery is this?" their leader growled in Orkish.<p>

Just then, a wild-looking brown horse and its rider burst out of the foliage, distracting the wargs and orcs. "Come and get me!" he shouted, and the whole pack went bounding after them, following the silhouette of his horse as he galloped away.

Meanwhile another group slid silently into the fog, unnoticed by the pack.

Elsa made it so that a good twenty or thirty feet around them was visible, allowing them to follow Gandalf with ease as he led them all past huge stones and boulders that stood like silent witnesses to their plight and over the rugged hills of this part of the country. The wizard seemed to know all too well where they were going. While Bilbo had to admit the fog idea was clever, he also had to admit that he was slightly more afraid than before; the howling of the wargs and the battle cries of the orcs seemed to come from everywhere, and yet the owners were nowhere to be seen; their enemies were as invisible to them as they were to their enemies.

Turning a corner, the company halted as the visible silhouettes of Radagast and his horse galloped by in the distance, followed closely by a large number of wargs, both mounted and bare-backed. Seeing they were in no danger of exposure, Gandalf urged them on to another rock, where they caught their breath as the howling slowly died away…only to be replaced by deep panting and the clacking of claws on rock up above them.

Thorin motioned to Kili, who nodded and drew an arrow from his quiver—but then Elsa placed her hand on the young dwarf's shoulder, shaking her head. Bilbo watched as she placed her hand on the stone. A line of frost erupted, and trailed upwards towards the unseen enemy, slowly growing in size as it climbed over the stone. Bilbo peered upward to see the orc and his ride peering around from their perch, only to be taken by surprise as razor sharp icicles burst towards them. However, they missed their mark, and the hunters leapt off the rock, only to be set upon by the dwarves and their weaponry. Try as they might to kill them off quickly and silently, though, the two creatures howled to their dying breath.

It was only after the job was finished, though, that the company noticed that the air around them had become silent. Then, an orc voice shouted a command, and the howling started again.

"Move!" Gandalf shouted, "Run!" And with that, they all took off, as the howling came closer and closer.

The wizard led them to a part of the land where trees grew in sparse numbers. Now the howling seemed to come from all around; were they surrounded? Just then, Elsa tripped and fell, falling behind. Bilbo rushed back to help her. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said as he helped her back on to her feet. It was then that Bilbo noticed that the fog around them had started to thin; now the shapes of the wargs and their orc riders became more visible and clear to them.

"Elsa, your fog!" he shouted.

"There's no time," she said, "We have to keep moving!"

They rejoined the group near an outcropping of rocks. Kili did his best to shoot down as many as he could, but the number of orcs and wargs only seemed to increase from all sides. Bilbo looked around, but Gandalf could not be found. Had he abandoned them?

"Hold your ground!" Thorin shouted, and they all gathered into a ring, ready to take on the approaching enemy. As the orcs drew closer, Bilbo could see the features of their faces, all of them horribly distorted and twisted in some way or the other. He began to fear for his life, and wondered what morbid purposes they had in store for them…

…But then Gandalf popped up from the rock behind them, shouting, "This way, you fools!" Bilbo turned to see the curl of his blue hat actually _sink_ into the ground below—but then he realized the truth of the matter.

Seeing where he had gone, the company followed, discovering a cavern in the ground and Gandalf at the bottom of it. They started to slide down, Bilbo coming in at second, as Thorin and Elsa stood at the entrance, fending off wargs that got too close. When everyone else was in, Thorin himself jumped in. Elsa was the last to come down, and as soon as she did, she sealed off the entrance with a thick layer of ice.

A horn sounded off above them, muffled by the ice. The sounds of battle closely followed; they could hear the sound of hoof beats drumming the ground, followed by shrieks and yelps of both warg and orc.

The body of an orc fell through and landed on the ice, turning the light that flowed through a deep red with its blood. The broken shaft of an arrow could be seen sticking out of the neck.

Just as quickly as it had come, the sound of the victors seemed to die away.

"What was that?" Bilbo asked.

"More importantly," Dori spoke, "are we going to be able to get out of this hole?" They all looked to Elsa, but she shook her head. "I can only make ice," she said sadly, "I don't know how to thaw it."

Just then, Dwalin, who was further down in the cave, shouted out, "There's a pathway, but I cannot see where it leads! Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it, of course!" Bofur said, and soon the company followed close behind.

"I think that would be wise," Gandalf said quietly, and with what Bilbo could only assume was a sense of accomplishment.

The path led them through narrow, winding passages in the rock, while sunlight streamed down from a narrow crack up above, illuminating their way. To Bilbo's relief, escape arrived sooner than expected; they exited into a place where a small stream trickled down the rocks in a waterfall. Coming out into the open, his jaw dropped at the most beautiful thing he had seen thus far; beautiful white buildings of elegant architecture wreathed in thick trees and perched upon waterfall-spouting rocks against the side of a massive alabaster gorge, with a river flowing gently into the east.

"The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf declared, "In the common tongue, it is known by another name."

The word came to Bilbo instantly. "Rivendell," he whispered, overtaken by its beauty, as was Elsa, who marveled at the sight of it.

"Here lies the last homely house east of the sea," Gandalf continued.

Thorin, on the other hand, was not so entranced. "This was your plan all along," he accused Gandalf, "to seek refuge with our enemies." Elsa heard this and looked with confusion. Bilbo did as well.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield," the wizard declared, "The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."

"Do you think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."

Elsa looked up in surprise. "Elves?" she asked, "there are elves here?" It was truly strange to Bilbo that she would ask this; most everyone knew of the elves of Rivendell.

"Yes, of course," Gandalf said, seemingly to both her and Thorin. "And we have questions that only they can answer. If we are to be successful, we must approach them with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm—which is why you will leave the talking to me."

As the group started their way down, Bilbo whispered to Elsa, "You don't know about elves?"

"I don't think I've ever met one," she defended, "Have you?"

"No," he replied, "but I'm definitely looking forward to meeting them."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I'm aware that in the film adaptation (on which this is based) Radagast used a sled pulled by 'Rhosgobel Rabbits'; however, I replaced them with a horse, as it gave the character a bit more dignity. Also, I am perfectly aware that Radagast does not appear in the books; for those who haven't figured it out, this is based primarily on the film adaptation.**


	5. Chapter 5: The Last Homely House

It proved incredibly difficult for Elsa to come up with enough words to describe her feelings when entering Rivendell. As they descended down the path from the pass, she gazed around in silent wonder at the ancient, yet elegant beauty of the place, unlike anything she had seen before, as if Heaven had left a present to earth. Crossing a stone bridge over a rolling stream, the company entered and gathered in a circular pavilion, where ivy had been allowed to grow freely over the statues and sculptures of the gardens. For a moment, Elsa noticed that Bilbo had fallen behind; he had paused for a moment at the entrance, gazing in wonder at everything around them. She didn't blame him at all, having been entranced herself.

"_Mithrandir_," a voice spoke.

Gandalf turned, and seemed to recognize the owner. "Ah," he said, "Lindir!" Elsa turned to see a dark haired man cloaked in dark colors passing by a pair of armored guards and descending the staircase in front of them, giving a friendly gesture to Gandalf, who moved forward to speak with him. She noticed an unearthly beauty about him, something she had seen before in the woods near her dwelling…

"An angel?" she said quietly.

At the sound of this, the closest dwarves to her turned and gave her a funny look, as if she had gone insane.

"Angel?" Balin said, "Hardly. That's an elf, miss."

"Aye, they're not a race to be trusted," Glóin concurred, "Just ask Thorin, and everyone driven out of the Lonely Mountain."

Elsa felt somewhat embarrassed; she had been in this place for so long, and yet knew very little about it. The vision had been right; she really needed to get out more often. Then, somewhere in her mind, there was a memory of reading from some of the old pagan texts in her library of such beings; the light elves, and the dark elves, or so she remembered. Which of these were they?

Kili, meanwhile, leaned closer to her and whispered, "Just between you and me, I don't blame you for thinking that. Not that I fancy them, mind you."

"_Lastannem i athrannedh i Vruinen_," the elf called Lindir said to Gandalf. She did not recognize the tongue at all, but she admired how fluid and pleasant it was to the ears.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf said.

"My Lord Elrond is not here," Lindir reported.

"Not here?" Gandalf asked, "Where is he?"

Just then, there was the sound of a horn blast behind them—a very familiar sounding horn blast. Elsa turned with the others to see a large cavalry of riders dressed in armor and wielding spears and flags approaching very swiftly. Almost immediately, Thorin shouted something in Dwarvish, and Elsa found herself pulled into the center the group. As the horsemen (horse-elves?) came in, they started riding around the ring in circles, while the dwarves growled and grimaced, brandishing their weapons and baring their teeth, ready to go into battle—the last thing Elsa wanted to do. But then, almost as soon as it had happened, it was over; the riders ceased their circling, though the dwarves still remained wary.

The foremost of them, an elf with long dark hair wearing mahogany-colored armor, and astride a dark horse, came forward. "Gandalf!" he said.

"Lord Elrond," Gandalf greeted him, clearly relieved at his presence. He bowed, and asked, "_Mellonnen! Mo evínedh_?"

Again, more of that pleasant but strange language.

"_Farannem 'lamhoth i udul o charad_," Elrond replied as he dismounted and walked towards Gandalf, "_Dagannem rim na Iant Vedui_." He greeted Gandalf with a light embrace, and then held up a crude-looking weapon, something she recognized as being carried by one of the orcs from earlier. "Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders," the elf Lord remarked, while he handed the weapon to Lindir, "Something, or someone, has drawn them near."

"Well, that may have been us," Gandalf replied, motioning to the rest of the company. Thorin stepped forward, calmly but cautiously. The Elf Lord seemed to recognize him.

"Welcome, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin," Elrond greeted him.

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin replied.

"You have your grandfather's bearings," Elrond explained, "I knew Thrór when he ruled under the Mountain."

"Indeed," said Thorin, "He made no mention of you."

Elrond then turned back to Gandalf. "Stranger still," he said, "is the winter fog that came with the orcs. I can't imagine that you were responsible for that as well."

Elsa's heart nearly skipped a beat; she hadn't realized how much of her powers she had exposed during the past day alone and how little thought she had given to the reactions of others. The dwarves had been one thing, since she had saved them and became an official part of the company, but what of the elves? Would such people react the same as her own did? Did she dare expose herself any further?

As if in answer to her own thoughts, Gandalf looked in her direction with comfort and assurance in his eyes, and Elsa felt much of the fear in her ebb away, though some degree of reluctance still lingered. She stepped forward, saying, "Actually…that was me."

She felt herself burn with the words. Never before had she actually admitted to something like that in her life, and doing so felt so against her.

The Elf seemed more fascinated than surprised. "Welcome, Lady…"

"Elsa," she responded, "of Arendelle."

"I have not heard of such a realm, before," Elrond remarked.

"It is…fairly distant. I wouldn't be surprised," she said.

To her relief, the Elf Lord did not bring up the fog again. He did, however say something else.

"_Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin_," he said.

Whether or not it was a complement, Elsa could not say.

"What does he say?" Glóin growled, "Does he offer us INSULT?" The other dwarves yelled out at the perceived slur.

"No, Master Glóin," Gandalf assured, "He is offering you food."

After a moment of brief deliberation amongst themselves, the dwarves turned back, looking somewhat more pleased, with Glóin himself replying, "In that case, lead on."

* * *

><p>Dinner, it turned out, was a fairly pleasant experience; Elsa, having secretly conjured up an outfit more fitting for such an occasion, was offered up a seat alongside Thorin and Gandalf at the head table with Elrond. She listened intently as Elrond looked over the swords that Gandalf and Thorin had claimed from the Troll-hoard and described their history, and was lulled by the harps and flutes of the elven musicians. True, she wasn't the center of attention (and for that she was grateful), but it was the closest she had ever felt to being back home in Arendelle again, to feeling like an actual Queen...<p>

Holding Thorin's sword in hand, Elrond analyzed the weapon quite closely. "This is _Orcrist_," he declared, "The Goblin Cleaver, a famous blade forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well," he said as he handed it back to the Dwarf King. Taking the long, straight sword that Gandalf had claimed, he looked over it and said, "And this is _Glamdring_, the Foe-Hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the Goblin Wars of the First Age…"

However, Elsa didn't hear any more of it. She found her attention drawn to Bilbo, who sat with the rest of the dwarves at the table below them; she noticed him draw out his little blade somewhat, a look of envy and curiosity growing on his expression. Balin, however, said something to him, and he drew it back in his scabbard. Elsa knew that he had overheard Elrond's analysis of Thorin and Gandalf's swords, and could understand what he felt—personally, however, she didn't care much for swords, having learned to weaponize her own magic in this land. However, she could confess to having an admiration for the gracefulness of melee combat…

"How did you come by these?" Elrond said, shaking Elsa out of her thoughts.

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road," Gandalf replied, "Shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" Elrond asked.

However, he failed to get a definite answer from him or Thorin, who walked away, grumbling. Instead, he turned his attention to Elsa. "If I may be so inclined to ask, Lady Elsa," he said, "I cannot help but be curious as to why someone would journey so far away from their homeland."

Elsa wasn't sure how to respond to this question. Clearly it had been a mistake to bring up Arendelle, no matter how polite it was in context. Her heart pounding, the goblet in her hand begin to frost over. "I…I needed to get out of the house," she quickly answered, "Get some fresh air, get some traveling in…" Not quite a lie, but not quite a truth, either.

Elrond nodded, apparently buying it, and didn't bring it up again, to her relief, allowing the frost to recede. The rest of the evening went on quite pleasantly…right up until Bofur decided to 'liven up' the meal with a raucous drinking song, and the resulting flurry of flying food that followed.

After dinner, Elsa was led by Lindir to her own private room, whereas the rest of the company elected to stay elsewhere. "This room," Lindir explained, "previously belonged to Arwen, Lord Elrond's daughter."

"And where is she?" Elsa asked.

"Staying with relations in Lothlorien for the time being," he answered.

"It's very kind of Lord Elrond to offer this to me," she mused, "Please send to him my compliments and gratitude." The elf bowed politely as he made his way out the door. Once he was gone, Elsa took a moment to take a big sigh of relief and collapse on the huge, soft bed. She really did feel like a real Queen again…then her thoughts turned back to Elrond's question from earlier. Why had she left Arendelle? Out of panic, of course. Her thoughts turned further back to that fateful coronation day, and all the terror that had accompanied it. She thought back to the look on everyone's faces, on Anna's especially…she couldn't have stayed there. There was no way that she could have…

And yet, she was Queen. As much as it did to her, tossing aside the crown didn't change the fact that an entire kingdom had depended on her.

_Am I a coward? _She thought, the words piercing her soul.

Getting up onto her feet, she walked toward the balcony and looked over the valley, bathed in the soft light of a crescent moon. She wondered what state her own kingdom was in. She prayed that it hadn't fallen to ruin…but if Anna was there, then surely she was taking care of things…assuming that it hadn't been her ghost she had seen the night before.

Her eyes wandered to an outcropping of rock a good distance away, veiled by the spray of several waterfalls. She could see at least five figures standing before a large slab of white crystal; Elrond, Gandalf, Thorin, Balin, and even Bilbo were there. But why?

Then, the clouds unveiled the crescent moon, allowing it's beams to fall upon the crystal and causing it to glow with an unearthly beauty. But still, the question remained: why? Did it have to do with the "questions that need answering"?

* * *

><p>The next morning, Elsa went to search for Bilbo; for some reason, she felt comfortable discussing such things with him. She found him wandering around outside through the gardens, already in a pleasant state, which only seemed to increase when she came. Upon inquiry, the hobbit explained that Gandalf was off discussing things with Lord Elrond, while the dwarves were still busy eating breakfast. He then told her the events of the night before:<p>

"Well, Gandalf has this map," he explained, "that shows a hidden passage where we can get inside the mountain. The thing is that neither he, nor any of the dwarves, could read the writing on it—which seemed strange to me, I mean they are dwarves, so they should be able to read their own language, but that's beside the point—so we had to take it to Elrond. He found these moon runes on it, which can only be read on the same night and under the same shape of moon they were written."

"And what did they say?" Elsa asked.

"Apparently we have to find a place where this thrush is supposed to knock on the last day of autumn, and the first moon of winter" he said.

"Then we don't have very much time then, do we?"

"No, and I don't like to think very much about it," he admitted, "to tell you the truth. That's also why I stepped out here; to get my mind off of things for a while."

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked.

"Not at all," he smiled.

The rest of their day was spent wandering the halls and gardens of Rivendell, taking in the scenery and all the works of art that it had to offer. Over time, Bilbo came to tell her of the Shire, a land of rolling green hills and small streams, humble farms and fruitful fields, and of Bag End, the place that he called home. She in turn told him of Arendelle and its vast, snowcapped peaks, its fjords and forests, and many other things, but chose to leave out the palace of her birth.

They then came to a certain hall where there stood the statue of a woman holding in her hands a cloth cradling pieces of a broken sword. Across from it hung a painting where a human warrior swung a broken blade, possibly the same as the one on display, to strike the hand of a monstrous figure in black, skeletal armor. While beautiful and masterfully done, it only held Elsa's interest for a few moments before she felt compelled to move on, only to realize that Bilbo did not follow. She turned to see his gaze fixated on the hand of the dark one; on closer inspection, a golden ring could be seen on one of the dark one's fingers.

"Bilbo?" she said.

The sound of her voice seemed to shake him out of his trance. "Sorry," he said, "Don't know what got over me."

They then found a balcony overlooking the valley again, as the golden light of the sun shone in the afternoon sky. Their conversation then returned to their homes.

"Do you ever think of home?" he asked her.

"Why? Do you?" she replied.

"Well…of course I do. Sometimes I feel like I rushed out the door far too soon; everything that's happened to me thus far, it boggles my mind. What about you?"

"I'm not sure…" she admitted, "Honestly, I've been away from Arendelle a lot longer than you'd think, but I do think of it fondly, sometimes."

"Then why did you leave?" he asked.

"It's complicated," she replied, "I don't like to talk about it."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Silence followed after that. They stood there for a long time, watching as the sun went its course in the sky. Eventually, Bilbo said that he was going to check on something, and left her alone, probably something that she needed at the moment.

It wasn't long after he left, however, that Elsa was joined by someone else. "Not with your companions?" the Elf Lord asked.

"Lord Elrond!" Elsa exclaimed, "No, I just…forgive me, I was not expecting anyone."

"It's quite alright," he said. "I understand your desire for solitude." He then added, "I would imagine it to be very lonesome, being the one person in a world not of your birth."

She looked over at him again in shock and surprise. "How did you…?"

"Exerting one's will over winter itself," Elrond explained, "is a strange and beautiful power not found in Middle Earth, a magic that I have not felt before. Your presence is also not of this world, and yet not of the next. I suspected it the moment you arrived here."

"Please, don't speak of this to anyone," she begged of him.

"I do not desire your misery, Elsa" Elrond assured her. "However, I am curious as to how you managed to come to Middle Earth."

After a moment of internal struggle, Elsa went on to tell him of how she had ran for miles and miles away from her homeland, and of the showers of glowing shards that had facilitated her coming to Middle Earth. As she told her tale, he nodded knowingly and analytically. At last, he spoke, saying, "In the five thousand years that I have walked this earth, I have heard rumors of gateways to worlds other than our own."

"Little wonder that they were rumors, then," Elsa responded. "I can't imagine that these 'gateways' were used very often."

"Perhaps," Elrond said, "however, the fact that you are here is testimony to the fact of their existence. However, these rumors also held that these gateways could only be opened by rare powerful gems."

"Then," Elsa started, "If someone has the gems…"

"Then they can travel through the worlds with ease."

Elsa allowed this to sink in for a moment; she had abandoned the thought of returning home for ages, but now, the possibility had opened up again. She could go back to Arendelle, back to the palace, back to Anna…

No. She couldn't. She shrugged the thought off, saying, "Well, I would assume that no one would know where these gems would be, given how valuable they are."

Elrond nodded.

"That's what I thought," she said. "It's probably better that way."


	6. Chapter 6: The Front Porch

The fact that the good things in life can disappear before you know them was a lesson that Elsa had learned the hard way, and yet could never get quite used to; Rivendell, with its fine beauty, warm foods, soft beds, and pleasant music, already seemed like a distant dream here on a path alongside the edge of a steep cliff. The morning cold, even in the shadows, did nothing to waken her senses; her body still longed for sleep, and it was only their march that kept the blood flowing.

Only been a few hours ago they departed Rivendell; Elsa, after her conversation with Elrond, had returned to her guest room to get some much needed sleep with the coming of the night. That period of bliss had been brief, however, when one of the dwarves knocked on her door, informing her that the company was leaving right then and there, much to her surprise and great reluctance. What made it even stranger was that Gandalf was not coming with them, though she had been informed that he would catch up with them later on. Still, it seemed very strange to her for them to leave him so abruptly; what was he doing, anyway?

Thorin, at the head of the group, barked out, "Be on your guard; we're about to step over the edge of the wild." He, out of all of them, seemed to be the most eager to depart.

Bilbo, a little further ahead of her, took a moment to look back at the elven dwelling. She saw in his eyes a sad longing for a taste of what they had experienced, up until the moment Thorin's words compelled him on again. Elsa managed to catch up with him, and when the other dwarves couldn't hear them, whispered, "Are you alright?"

"Oh, fine, fine. It's just…" Bilbo stammered, "That was the closest I've ever been to home."

She smiled sympathetically. "I don't blame you," she said.

And thus, their journey continued; Thorin and Balin led the way towards the Misty Mountains that, as they stepped closer and closer, seemed to become more and more massive and threatening, more so than even the great mounts of Arendelle, it seemed. Over the course of the passing days, the landscape around them became harsher and more uninviting, changing from soft green forests to rugged hills of dry brush. Further on, even the vegetation disappeared as they came upon the mountainside itself; here, stone and snow held sway in the windswept landscape. Again, the cold did not affect Elsa in this harsh land, but she could see that the others, even in their coats and furs, shivered when a chill breeze swept through; her heart yearned for some way to comfort them.

The further they went, the more brutal the weather seemed to become, culminating in a furious thunderstorm that rumbled above while raining down and making the thin path of rock slick and slippery beneath their feat one dark and fearsome night. All in all, it was probably the worst time and place to be outside, even for Elsa. The company stuck as closely to the face of the cliff as much as possible, shielding their faces from the wind and rain.

"Miss Elsa," Dori called out from behind, "You seem to have a knack for meteorological talents; could you do something about this tempest?"

"If by that, you mean turn it into a blizzard and make it worse," Elsa shouted back, "then I'd probably be able to do that, but I don't think it would be prudent to our cause." Just then, the stone beneath her feet crumbled away, and Elsa found herself staring down at a hundred mile drop, restrained only by the hands of the dwarves closest to her. They graciously pulled back onto the path as she heaved a sigh of relief.

"We must find shelter!" Thorin shouted up ahead, as the storm roared overhead with a flash of lightning.

Suddenly, a huge blast came overhead, and everyone ducked for cover as a shower of rocks and boulders came pouring down the cliff. Motivated by the desire to stay alive, the company hastened their way down the path, only for more and more stones to come hurtling down their way, some even managing to obliterate what might've been decent footholds. Half of the group managed to get further ahead than the one Elsa and Thorin were in. In the midst of all the chaos, Elsa couldn't help but wonder if they had been caught in the middle of a battle between giants…

As if to answer her question, the lightning flashed, briefly revealing the silhouette of a massive figure in the distance, about to hurl an equally massive stone towards them.

Or more specifically, the half of the group where Bilbo was.

She gasped as the boulder smashed into the cliff face above them, shattering it into huge chunks that came rolling down in a huge avalanche, blocking them from view. When it had parted, they were nowhere to be seen.

Thorin voiced Elsa's thoughts as he charged ahead and shouted in despair. Elsa and the other dwarves were right behind him. Turning the corner, they were all relieved to find their companions all in a pile, safe and sound and getting back on their feet, heaving after what was surely a near death experience.

But then Elsa noticed that one of them was missing. "Where's Bilbo?" she asked, "Where is our hobbit?"

A yell below answered her question; the hobbit was hanging off the side of the cliff, clinging on to the rock for dear life. He slipped, and she moved forward, clasping his hand in hers. With all her strength, she started to hoist…but then Bilbo started shouting in pain. She felt his hand turn cold in hers, and at the shock her grip loosened. He fell, but managed to grasp onto another ledge below.

Thorin himself jumped down to a nearby ledge, grabbed Bilbo by the back, and hoist the hobbit back towards the hands of the others, himself coming back up with the help of Dwalin. Once he was back in safety, Elsa went straight to Bilbo. "Are you alright? Your hand…I'm so sorry…"

"Don't worry about me," Bilbo assured her, "I'm fine, and so is my hand."

In huge sighs of relief, Dwalin said, "I thought we had lost our burglar."

"He's been lost," Thorin said, "Ever since he left home. He should never have come; he has no place amongst us."

The words, though not directed at her, hit Elsa with as much force as they must have hit Bilbo, and she felt as though they applied to her as well.

Fortunately, Thorin discovered a small cave in the cliff wall, and almost in an instant, everyone managed to get inside, grateful to be someplace where, at the very least, they could avoid getting any wetter than they already were. Elsa managed to dry off the fastest by turning the rainwater on her skin into ice and sending it away in a puff of powder; she did the same for everyone else, which, while leaving them a bit colder, left them far drier than before. It was decided then that they would stay there until dawn, but no fire would be lit, out of concern of what other dangers might dwell nearby.

* * *

><p>If Elsa had hoped for any sleep this night, she was sorely mistaken; the snoring of the dwarves, exaggerated by their own echoes, kept her awake in the dark cave, alongside the thundering of the storm outside. It was incredible how quickly she had gone from sleeping in a soft, quiet bed to…this. Not that she had anything personal against the dwarves or anything like that.<p>

She heard the sound of bags being closed, the rustling of cloth, and footsteps padding their way across stone and sand. Turning herself around, she saw the shape of a very small person tiptoeing his way over the sleeping forms of dwarves.

"Bilbo!" she whispered, "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

He turned to her, very solemnly. "Back to Rivendell," he answered.

Getting onto her feet, Elsa made her way over to him, saying, "You can't quit! Not now!"

"What difference would it make?" he responded. "Thorin was right; I shouldn't have come out here to begin with."

"That's not something the Bilbo I first met would say."

"No, that wasn't me. That was a Took talking. I'm not a Took, I'm just a Baggins. I should never have run out my door."

Elsa knelt down to his eye level, and grasped his arms. "You listen to me, Bilbo Baggins. You're needed here; you are a part of this company."

"No, Elsa, I'm not. I'm not a dwarf; I'm not even a burglar. I feel more like a spare wheel than anything else, and you have no idea what that feels like!"

"Actually, you're wrong," Elsa admitted, "I do."

"Are you joking? You're the most useful out of all of us!"

"I've seen the way that Thorin looks at me," she said, "the way he looked at me before I joined this quest and ever since then. It makes me feel very much like a spare wheel."

"Well, at least you can handle yourself," Bilbo stated, "I'm just not used to this kind of life; running around, always on the road, never settling down, not belonging anywhere…"

Those last notes struck a chord with Elsa; she remembered what Elrond had said to her back in Rivendell, of being lonesome in a world you weren't born in…suddenly she felt more alone than ever before.

Bilbo saw the look on her face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't…"

"No," she said quietly, "You're right." Looking back at the sleeping dwarves, she added, "At least they had a home, once."

There was a moment of pained silence in that cavern between them. Then Bilbo clasped Elsa's hands into his own. "Come with me," he said, "Come with me back to Rivendell, maybe even back to Bag End."

"What?"

"Neither of us belongs here," he said, "and I realize what you mean. We can leave together, and put this whole mess behind us. I doubt that anyone would notice we were gone."

Elsa's emotions were swirling like a whirlpool inside of her. This offer came out of nowhere for her; on one hand, she didn't want to abandon Thorin and the company, but on the other hand…she thought of how Bilbo had described the Shire, and the images rolled by in her mind. She thought of peace, quiet, maybe even freedom…

"Bilbo," she started, "I…what's that?"

She had noticed a light emanating from Bilbo's scabbard. He drew out the blade by the handle, and a blue light glowed from it in the dark.

"Oh, that? Gandalf said that it would glow like that when…," Bilbo started to explain, but then paused, a look of fear coming over his face.

Suddenly, a sound like a huge rumbling crack shook the floor beneath them, waking up the dwarves. Then, it disappeared, and Elsa tumbled down a huge tunnel, losing orientation as she slid down the walls and into the air, until at last she found herself lying on top of a pile of dwarves. Pulling herself together, she saw that they had landed in some sort of large basket above a massive chasm, lit by the flames of torches and lanterns lining a wooden plank bridge running from their basket to a pathway carved out of stone…where a horde of horrible screeching creatures were coming straight at them. Brandishing hideous weapons, they seemed to her some especially degenerate form of orc, their bodies twisted and malformed, with pale skins riddled with sores and lesions, mouths lined with diseased and broken teeth, and eyes that glared with hatred and malice.

Instinctively, Elsa leapt off of the dwarf pile and raised a barricade of razor sharp icicles, halting most of the heathenish creatures in their path (some were unfortunate enough to run themselves through). But then, something hit her hard in the back, throwing her to the floor. She felt cold, grimy hands tie hers together, and saw as larger creatures used their clubs to smash their way through her barricade. A foul-tasting gag was forced into her mouth, and a foul-smelling sack was forced over her head, blinding her to what was going on around her.

She felt herself being raised to her feet and forced to walk amidst a cacophony of screeches and growls; she could hear the protests of the dwarves as they went along. With her head stuck in that bag, she was lost and confused as the sounds around her changed; constant were the dwarves and their refusal to back down, but their enemies cries seemed to multiply as they went, and became accompanied by wretched noises attempting to be a grating imitation of music. At last, she heard the sounds of something coughing and gurgling…something big.

Forced onto her knees, the bag was taken away from her head, and she could see again—but she wasn't sure that she even wanted to. Sitting on a tall throne with a pile of hapless creatures as his footstool was easily the biggest and foulest of them all; a corpulent beast with innumerable sores and lesions across its body that easily towered above them all. On its scalp was a crown topped with teeth, bones and claws, and in its gnarled hand it held a staff topped with the skull of some horrendous horned beast and tipped with razor sharp prongs. The sight, along with the gag, was almost enough to make her retch.

"Welcome to Goblin Town, ladies and gentlemen!" the huge creature bellowed, "Don't expect to get out alive or intact anytime soon."

Elsa looked around, and saw that the dwarves were with her, but they were all surrounded by legions of these goblin creatures. Beyond that, the cavern they were now in was massively huge, with the walls lined with wooden shacks and such. High above them, a chandelier made out of a wagon wheel hung precariously above, lighting the place in golden light.

The subservient goblins, having taken their weapons, piled them onto the floor before what she could only assume to be their king.

"Who would be so bold as to come ARMED into MY kingdom?" the Goblin King demanded upon seeing all the swords and axes, "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"

"Dwarves, your malevolence," one of the smaller goblins answered, "We found them on the front porch."

"And they've got a WITCH with them!" another shouted, pointing at her and sending the vile crowd into a riot.

"How do you know she is a witch?" the Goblin King questioned.

"Well, she turned me into a NEWT!" one really small goblin squealed.

"…A newt?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment as everyone looked at that particular goblin questionably. He then whimpered, "I got better."

The Goblin King, after giving the small goblin a foul look, then turned his attention to the dwarves. "What are you doing in these parts?"

Thorin started to step forward, but then Óin halted him. "Don't worry boys," he said as he came to the front, "I'll handle this."

"No tricks! I want the truth," the Goblin King demanded, "Once and all."

"You'll have to speak up, lad," Óin requested, displaying his flattened hearing aid, "Your boys flattened my trumpet."

"I'll flatten more that YOUR TRUMPET!" The Goblin King started to charge towards them, ready to crush them with his mace. But then Bofur came to the fore.

"If its information you want, I'm the one to talk to," he said. With a small nod from the Great Goblin, he went on. "You see, we were on the road—actually, it's not so much of a road as a path—actually it's not even that, come to think of it, it's more of a track. Anyway, point is, we were on the road like a path like a track, and then we weren't, which is a problem because we were supposed to be in Dunland, last Tuesday…" he started to waver in his alibi. It was very clear to Elsa that the Goblin King didn't believe a word of what Bofur was saying.

"Visiting distant relations!" Dori added.

"Yes!" Bofur said, "Some inbreds on me mother's side—"

"SHUT UP!" the Goblin King roared hideously, silencing them before Bofur could go on any further.

"If they will not talk," he said, "We'll make them SQUAWK!" The entire crowd of goblins went into a wild frenzy at the thought of torture. "Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bone-breaker!" He then pointed his crooked finger straight at Elsa. "Start with…the prettiest!"

"WAIT!" Thorin shouted from behind. The crowd became silent as the Dwarf King stepped forward to face the Goblin, who appeared to recognize him.

"Well, well, WELL!" the great fiend smiled, "Look who it is! Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór," He then displayed a mocking curtsy. "King under the mountain…oh, but I forgetting you don't HAVE a mountain, so you're not a king, which makes you…nobody really."

The fiend slowly lurched over towards him, speaking very softly. "But do you know what? I know someone who'd pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. I do believe you know of whom I speak of, no? A certain pale orc, astride a white warg?"

Elsa saw fear in Thorin's eyes at the goblin's words, followed by denial. "The Defiler was destroyed; he was slain in battle long ago," the Dwarf King insisted.

"So you think his defiling days are done, do ya?" The Goblin King chuckled. He then turned to an especially deformed looking goblin perched like a bird on a plank with long, claw-tipped fingers that it used as a writing utensil. "Send word out to the Pale Orc," he commanded. "Tell him, I have found his prize."

As the scribe slid away, Elsa's mind was flooded with questions, but the most important one of all now was, "How are we going to get out of here?"


	7. Chapter 7: The Fall of Goblin Town

Time passed, and things only seemed to get worse for the company. While the goblins continued their taunting and tormenting, their leader had started singing a horrible song of torture and misery, right as they began rolling out huge contraptions with a painfully obvious purpose. All this time, Elsa's mind raced for a way to fight back, and her heart beat right along with it. She only knew that she did NOT want to die here, not in this wretched hell, gagged and bound with bonds that…bonds she had just barely began to notice had become solid and cold. Had she froze the ropes so much that they had turned to ice? For once, it seemed, fear had been of service to her.

Without a second thought, Elsa broke apart the ropes into pieces, leaped onto her feet and in a flash started freezing as many goblins as she could before they could attack. But then one of the goblins lassoed her by the hand, pulled her off of her feet and onto the floor. Several more arrived to pin her down.

The Goblin King, meanwhile, seemed very impressed. "Well," he growled, "It seems that we DO have a witch on our hands!" He lurched to lean over her, leering cruelly. "But unfortunately, your witchcraft won't save you. And neither will your little friends!"

The dwarves fought to break free of their captors, shouting out, "Leave her alone!"

The Goblin King, however, sneered disdainfully at them. He leaned in close to Elsa, close enough for her to see every last glistening deformation on his face and smell the foul reek of his breath. "You think they care about you, hm?" he asked her quietly, "Do you think they believe you to be their friend? No, dear girl, to them you are only a tool, a means to an end. And like any tool, they will toss you aside once you have served your purpose."

Elsa, being gagged, couldn't speak, so her thoughts went unanswered. She had earned their trust, and they had given her great praise. Surely this fiend lied through his snaggled teeth…right?

The great cretin then spoke to his minions, "Let us demonstrate what happens when someone trusts a dwarf! Bring me Oakenshield's sword!"

One of the goblins gleefully retrieved Thorin's sword from the pile, cackling as he went—but that changed when, out of curiosity, the goblin partially unsheathed the blade. Upon seeing the inscription upon the metal and its blue glow, he screeched and tossed it onto the floor as if it were diseased. All of the other goblins retreated back in fear of the weapon; even the Goblin King himself clambered onto his throne, cowering at the sight of it. "I know that sword!" he wailed, "It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the Blade that sliced a thousand necks! Slash them! Beat them! Kill them all!"

Upon his word, the goblins set upon the dwarves with their whips and blades, rending the air with the noise of their anger and hatred. Thorin himself was thrown down onto the floor right next to Elsa, while a goblin leered above them with a sword in hand, ready to let the razor edge fall down upon them.

"CUT OFF HIS HEAD!" the Goblin King roared.

A burst of light suddenly filled the room, accompanied by a burst of wind that knocked everyone, even the Great Goblin, off of their feet and sent the torture machines flying off of the track. Darkness reigned for a few long moments, but then the torches and candles regained their flames. Against their light, a figure approached holding a sword in one hand and a twisted gnarling staff in the other, standing high above them all. The lights regained their full strength, and revealed the newcomer's stern face looking over the group.

Elsa couldn't have been more relieved to see the grey wizard—which, now that she thought about it, was probably the exact opposite reaction she would've had a few days ago.

"Take up arms," Gandalf said, "Fight. FIGHT!"

Compelled by his words, Elsa leapt onto her feet, ripped the gag out of her mouth, and went all out on the goblins, unleashing her ice and frost onto them like never before. Gandalf came to her side, hacking and slashing at the goblins that came their way with his sword. The dwarves were just as fast, clambering past the goblins and in some cases throwing them aside, retrieving and tossing their weapons to each other, and engaging the fiends in battle.

"My apologies for arriving so late," Gandalf said as he ran a goblin through with his sword.

"Can we just focus on getting out of here alive?" Elsa replied.

On seeing Gandalf's blade, the Goblin King wailed where he lay, "He wields the Foe-Hammer, the Beater, bright as daylight!"

Goblins seemed to come from all sides, making it hard for Elsa to direct her attacks, which would've proven fatal had the other dwarves not come to her aid. She had never seen so much loss of life in one place before her, but it mattered not with the need for survival at the top of her priorities. The Goblin King, meanwhile, got onto his feet and raised his mace to smash Thorin. But the Dwarf King, alerted by the others, raised Orcrist in defense; upon their weapons meeting, the force somehow sent the brute reeling back, and over the edge of the platform.

Elsa sent a huge blast of ice and frost, freezing their enemies in place, but still more came like a relentless wave. Gandalf then shouted, "Follow me! Quick! Run!" and the company did as he said. As they sprinted over a wobbling bridge, he led them away to a doorway, which in turn led to a long wooden bridge running through a vast cluttered network of wooden bridges and shacks crawling across the jagged rocks and over the pit of the chasm, with hundreds of goblins followed close behind.

The group fought hard and bitter to fend off the goblin attackers, who now came from above and from below; several times, Elsa had to raise an ice shield to protect her and the others from flying arrows and combatants swinging in on ropes. The dwarves proved quite resourceful, using ladders as shields and cutting the ropes from bridges as they went, but even then the horde kept coming with a relentless fury.

"Where are we going?" she asked Gandalf as she blasted a goblin attempting to snipe him from afar.

"There's an exit down below," the wizard explained, "If we get there in time, we'll be protected by the daylight; goblins cannot stand to move in the light of the sun." He then sliced off the head of an attacker.

"Assuming we can move fast enough," Dwalin shouted from up ahead, "There's just too many of them! We won't make it in time!"

Elsa, out of nowhere, found an idea. "Yes we can," she said, and instructed the others to cover her. Moving to the edge, she conjured up an icy slide and sent it over the edge and down, down, down into the chasm towards the direction Gandalf had indicated. She jumped on, and at her word, so did everyone else, sending them down the chute at high speed.

Elsa continued to conjure up more ice as they went, directing the slide around and away from danger. Such an effort demanded all her attention when the world seemed to go by a mile a minute and the wind filled her ears with its roar. Behind her, Gandalf and the dwarves whooped and hollered at the occasional hard turns and sheer drops, while at the same time managing to fend off goblin arrows, daggers, and even goblins who attempted to swing on using ropes. Down they went, further and further, deeper and deeper into the chasm.

"We're almost there!" Gandalf shouted.

Just as they were about to cross over one bridge, their slide suddenly burst into pieces up ahead, destroyed by the Goblin King's mace. Elsa was forced to jump and create a pile of snow for her and the rest to land in, flying right over the head of the brute, who guffawed at their less than graceful landing. Soon, a whole army of goblins stood guard on either end of the bridge, forcing them back with the points of their weapons and to face their repugnant leader. Elsa started to get up, but Gandalf held her back, giving her a look saying, "I'll handle this."

The Goblin King growled at the wizard, "You thought you could escape me?" Gandalf only barely dodged being crushed by the swing of the Great Goblin's mace, the effort throwing him against the dwarves who helped him back up.

"What are you going to do NOW, wizard?" he challenged.

Gandalf responded by jabbing his staff into the eye of the brute, who hollered at the pain. The wizard followed this by slicing open his gut, cutting through the fat and exposing blood and organs.

After giving it a moment's thought the Goblin King's last words were "…That'll do it."

With a final stroke, Gandalf hacked through the enormous wattle hanging from the Goblin's neck, the life gurgling out of the enemy once and for all. The huge body of the evil creature then came falling down like a great tree onto the bridge, sending a shuddering THUD through the woodwork.

Then, to everyone's horror, an ominous snap came from below them.

Gravity ceased to exist, and the world around Elsa turned into a blur as the bridge (as well as two lower platforms) beneath the feet of the company tumbled down into the chasm, smashing through shacks and pathways as it went. During the descent, Elsa saw the cavern floor fast approaching; thinking fast, she sent forth a blanket of snow, and shouted, "Everyone, jump!"

To her surprise, everyone did. To her further surprise, everyone managed to land safely in the deep powder, while the remains of the bridge came to a shattered end.

Clambering out, the dwarves gratefully shook the snow out of their hair and beards, while struggling to regain their foothold after such a great fall.

The corpse of the Goblin King, meanwhile, landed a short distance away, smashing into the rock.

But then the sound of a thousand angry goblins descending the stone walls drew away their attention. Elsa raised her hands, ready to send more deadly ice their way, but Gandalf grabbed and pulled them down. "The way out is just ahead. Come on!"

Running as quickly and carefully as they could, the company followed him into a dark narrow tunnel, but Elsa took a moment to seal off the entrance with a thick wall of ice before rejoining them in their flight. Even in escape, the winding tunnel seemed to go on forever, with innumerable twists and turns; were they ever going to get out of there?

But then, light came in from up ahead, nearly blinding them. Blessed, beautiful light! At long last!

Following the dwarves, she stepped out into the warm, blinding sunlight, basking in its rays. She never thought she'd be so happy to see the light of day again. But her rejoicing would have to wait; Gandalf urged them all to keep running down a steep mountain slope of sparse forest and scrub, until they were clear out of the cavern's range. Only then were they allowed to rest, and Elsa took that opportunity gladly, sitting down on a stone and catching her breath.

Much time passed before anyone spoke. Then Gandalf, who had been taking a head count, broke the silence.

"Where's Bilbo?" he asked. "Where is our hobbit?"

The words hit Elsa like a dagger. She looked around, but Bilbo was nowhere to be seen. The other dwarves looked around as well, finding nothing but the trees around them.

"Curse the Halfling!" Dwalin growled, "Now he's LOST?"

"I thought he was with Dori!" Glóin said.

"Don't blame me!" Dori said.

"Well, where did you last see him?" Gandalf questioned, clearly as desperate as Elsa was feeling.

"I think I saw him slip away when they first cornered us," Nori reported. At those words, Elsa felt a sense of dread growing within her; she didn't want to believe it, but what other option could there be, other than his death?

"Well what happened exactly? Tell me!" Gandalf demanded.

"I'll tell you what happened," Thorin said, and then he voiced exactly what Elsa did not want to believe. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it."

He then turned. "Isn't that right, Elsa?"

Suddenly, all eyes were on her, and she felt very small.

Thorin continued. "He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth ever since he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again; he is long gone."

Elsa fell back onto the ground, her heart welling within her. Could it be true? Did Bilbo decide to return home after all? She just couldn't deal with the thought, and soon icy winds began to swirl around her….

"No," a voice said from behind, "He isn't."

They all turned to see Bilbo Baggins right there in the flesh, looking a little worse for wear and missing the buttons from his coat, but still fine. Elsa's heart leapt with joy at the sight of him. She jumped onto her feet and wrapped him in her arms (much to his surprise, and hers), whispering "I thought I wouldn't see you again!" Pulling back, she asked him, "How did you get past the goblins?"

"How indeed," Dwalin said.

"Well, erm," Bilbo started, but wasn't quite able to finish. Elsa didn't notice that he slipped something into his pocket just then.

"Well, what does it matter?" Gandalf said, clearly as pleased as Elsa was, "He's back!"

"It matters," Thorin declared solemnly. "I want to know. Why did you come back?"

After a moment, Bilbo started to speak.

"Look, I know you doubt me," he said, "and I know you always have." He then shrugged, "And you're right, I often think of Bag End; I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See that's where I belong; that's home…and that's why I came back, because you don't have one—a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

His words, though small and humble as he was, struck a chord within Elsa, and she felt strength growing within herself.

Yes, she said within herself, so will I.

It seemed that the same had happened to everyone else; Thorin was clearly humbled, but disbelief still lingered in his eyes. The other dwarves, however, seemed to look at Bilbo with admiration and awe, while a paternal sort of pride shone brightly on Gandalf's expression.

Then, like the moaning of a ghost, they could hear howls on the wind, and the sound of feet charging through the brush. Elsa could see the shapes of wargs moving past the trees, right towards them.

"Out of the frying pan…" Thorin started.

"And into the fire," Gandalf finished, "Run. RUN!"


	8. Chapter 8: A Night of Vengeance

Elsa couldn't tell if it was just her, or if the sun seemed to be setting faster and the dark growing stronger, but as the wargs came closer and closer, it certainly seemed as if doom itself was nigh approaching. At Gandalf's behest, she ran alongside the other dwarves through the trees and away from the approaching danger. Suddenly, her foot caught on a rock, and she fell onto the ground.

Lifting herself up, she saw the devil wolves sprinting down the slope at high speed, their teeth bared in hideous growls and their eyes glowing in the dark. She realized they couldn't outrun them—but fortunately she came up with an idea. Concentrating, she flipped herself on to her back and raised a wall of ice high into the air, surely enough to stop these beasts, as such a tactic had done in the past. But one of the wargs burst through the ice wall, flying over her, and landing a short distance away, dashing her hopes to pieces. Twisting its body around, the beast began to charge at her with terrible speed, only to be felled by a slash of Thorin's sword. Bofur and Glóin soon came to her aid. "Now miss, this is no time to be layin' down on the job," Bofur joked as the two dwarves helped her onto her feet.

They soon got back into a run, but by this time more wargs broke through Elsa's ice wall, forcing the other dwarves to fight them off. A quick glance to her left and she saw that Bilbo had apparently slain a warg as well, and now tried to pull his sword out of the skull of the dead beast.

Turning back to her path, she saw exactly where they were headed; the road, so to speak, ended at the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast valley. Where were they to run?

Gandalf provided the answer. "Up into the trees!" he shouted, "All of you!"

At his words, the dwarves started clambering up the tree nearest to them as fast as they could; even Bombur managed to jump up and snatch a branch in his thick arms. Elsa meanwhile, raised an ice column beneath her feet and elevated herself to the nearest branch for her to climb onto. From there, she climbed higher and higher along with the dwarves, hopefully enough to stay out of the reach of the wargs' jaws. From here, she saw another good reason for Gandalf having them climb up here; at the very least, she had a good vantage point. She could see a horde of at least twenty, if not more, wargs charging towards them through the forest below—as well as Bilbo, who had just barely managed to extract his sword, looking around helplessly.

"Bilbo!" she shouted, "Climb!"

At the sound of her voice, Bilbo turned and ran towards the tree she stood in, but as much as he tried, he couldn't reach the lowest branch. Fortunately for him, Elsa raised a column of ice beneath his feet and elevated him up as well, right as a warg snapped its jaws after him. Soon, the forest floor beneath them was crawling with the awful beasts, barking and growling after their desired prey in frustration. Elsa felt content enough to cast a mischievous smile at them in triumph.

But then, something else drew away the wargs' attention; they became silent, their backs arched and their ears lowered in submission. Elsa looked to see what they bowed to, and her eyes widened at the sight of a huge albino orc astride a warg as white as snow, flanked by at least six or seven others. He wore very little armor, exposing his deathly pale skin lined with huge scars all over his torso. A metal prong replaced the important part of his arm, running through the stub and coming out in a spike at the elbow. With his good arm, the orc held a vicious looking mace. While he wasn't the most hideous orc she had ever seen, Elsa did not believe that she had come across one more intimidating.

Thorin turned, and upon seeing the orc his eyes became wide with a genuine fear.

"Azog!" he whispered.

Elsa, meanwhile, turned to Bilbo, asking, "Who is that?"

"Azog the Defiler," Bilbo explained, "I've heard of him; he's supposed to be dead!"

The orc began to speak in a harsh language that Elsa did not understand, but at least could read the intent; through his deep, gravelly voice, this orc spoke with malice and pride, intending to drive the words into Thorin's heart.

"It cannot be," the Dwarf King said, horror staining his words.

Azog shouted a new command, and the rider-less wargs suddenly charged again, jumping into the trees with unbridled force and hunger, snapping their jaws after the company and even ripping off the branches with their teeth. Soon, the very trees themselves began to waver at the force of their weight; Elsa felt her tree beginning to slowly tilt.

"Move Elsa," Fili shouted at her, "Move!" She then found herself running with the tilt of the tree to the next tree, jumping onto it as the other one collapsed, which unfortunately, like a string of dominos, kept them all hopping from one tree to the next, until at last the entire company stood trapped in one single pine tree positioned precariously on the very edge of the precipice.

Determined not to stand by, Elsa tried aiming and launching bolts of frost at the wargs below; however, even deathly cold and ice couldn't deter the hounds from pursuing their master's command. But then she smelled the faint aroma of smoke; looking upwards, Elsa saw that Gandalf had lit a pine cone on fire. The wizard threw it down towards the wargs, and upon contact, the dry tinder on the ground burst into flame, driving them off. He lit more and handed them to the others, who lit their own and began a barrage upon the foul creatures; while Elsa wasn't quite as comfortable with fire, she too took one and launched it towards the enemy. Soon, the ground before them burned alight, and the wargs retreated from the heat of the growing flames, though some had the misfortune to catch their fur on fire. Azog, meanwhile, looked on furiously, his bloodlust thwarted.

The dwarves began to cheer at their victory; even Elsa let out a cry of joy. But a rumbling in the trunk of the tree cut their celebration short, followed by everything suddenly falling backwards as their one source of safety began to lean over the precipice. Elsa used all of her physical strength to cling on to a branch for dear life along with the others, staring down at what looked like hundreds of miles of empty space between her and the ground.

She noticed the thumping of boots close by and looked up to see Thorin Oakenshield wielding his sword and facing Azog himself, who looked on expectedly. Even from her low angle, she could see the look of righteous anger and determination on his face as he stepped forward off the tree, and began running towards the Pale Orc in a death charge. Her attention was fixed upon the Dwarf King as he raised his sword, ready to take on his enemy. Azog, meanwhile, smiled and spread his arms invitingly. Just as Thorin drew close enough, the orc compelled his beast, and the white warg leapt forward, knocking the Dwarf King onto his back. Thorin got back onto his feet again, only for Azog's mace to slam into his chest, sending him flying back into the air and yelling in pain. The dwarves around Elsa began to shout in shock and grief at the sight of their leader drawing closer to death's door.

She didn't notice until too late that Bilbo had gotten off the tree, and started running towards the battle.

The jaws of Azog's warg clamped around Thorin's torso and shook him around. Only a swift jab to the top of the muzzle freed him; the beast threw him into the air, and he landed a good distance away, too beaten to get up.

Azog then dismounted his warg. One of his warriors handed him his blade, and the pale orc began to approach the fallen dwarf, relishing the moment. He pressed his foot onto Thorin's chest, raised his blade…and then a side tackle from Bilbo knocked him over, forcing the blade out of his hand.

Taken by surprise, Azog fell onto his side, with the hobbit raising his glowing sword to land a killing blow. Grabbing him by the shirt, the orc captain threw him off like a rag doll. The warg, meanwhile, moved to defend its master, but found its paws frozen to the ground as Elsa moved in to save Bilbo, having gotten there just in time.

Enraged at the humiliation, Azog faced the two of them with hatred burning from his cold blue eyes. Elsa realized what sort of trouble she and Bilbo had gotten themselves into; this orc stood taller even than her.

The orc charged straight at them, raising his mace into the air. Elsa quickly raised a wall of ice into the air, thicker than before, but even that fell to the blow of the orc's weapon; the broken pieces landed on Bilbo, throwing him to the ground and trapping him beneath their weight. She summoned up spears of icicles, but they were smashed down before they could pierce his skin. Azog swung his mace down towards them, forcing Elsa to leap out of the way as his blow smashed into the ground. As she struggled to get up, she heard the sound of a heavy thud behind her. Suddenly, the orc's cold, clammy fingers were wrapped around her neck, and she felt her body being raised high into the air. Baring his pointed razor teeth in the most malicious of grins, Azog raised the barbed metal rod that served as his hand and Elsa had the horrible feeling that she knew precisely where he intended to plunge it. She closed her eyes, ready for the pain to take her into the embrace of death…

But it never came.

Opening her eyes, she saw the tip of Orcrist sticking through the ribs of the Pale Orc, dripping with black blood.

The orc's grip slackened, and Elsa fell to the ground, gasping for breath. She saw Thorin, battered and bruised, standing right behind Azog, with his sword embedded deep in the body of his old enemy.

"You have failed, Azog," the Dwarf King said in great pain, "Let's see you come back from THIS!"

He withdrew the sword, allowing the body of the once great and terrible fiend to fall to the earth. And with that, Thorin himself fell, exhausted from the exertion put upon himself.

Bilbo, having extracted himself from the ice, ran to Thorin's side.

The white warg, meanwhile, howled miserably for the death of its master, and in return, a dozen more growls arrived in return. The heroes found themselves surrounded by the remaining orc warriors, the lust for vengeance gleaming in their twisted, malformed faces. Bilbo swung his blade defiantly at them, while Elsa cast a line of frost before them, but neither tactic succeeded in intimidating the gang of orcs.

Suddenly a gust of wind blew up a storm of dust and fire. Elsa turned to see a massive golden-brown eagle, the biggest she had ever seen, swoop down and snatch one of the orcs and his warg and carry them into the air, dropping them to their deaths a ways off. The sky above suddenly became alive with the giant eagles, which set upon the wargs with uncanny ferocity by also fanning the flames onto the beasts with their wings and slashing at them with their hooked beaks and talons.

One of the birds, having driven off the orcs, flew straight towards her and Bilbo, and despite their best efforts to escape, picked both of them up in its talons, flew over the edge of the cliff, and dropped them safely onto the back of another eagle. As the great bird flew away and around the scene, she could see that the eagles, in addition to driving off the wargs, were also picking up the other dwarves as well, carrying them away from the flaming battleground and across the valley. Awed and intimidated, Elsa could feel the raw strength and power of every beat of the eagle's wing as it carried the two of them away into the night, far away from that terrible mountain.

* * *

><p>As night changed to dawn, Elsa felt her fear and panic ebb away into pure wonder as she experienced that mystical thing called flight; looking down at the world passing by below, she could never have truly imagined how small she was until now, here on the back of such a majestic bird. How many kings and rulers would desire to be in her place right now at this time?<p>

They soared over vast snowcapped mountains, over ranges and rivers, and through valleys of green, until at last they arrived at a tall ridge of pillars of rock, where the eagles landed, dropping off their precious cargo. Upon touching solid ground, Gandalf turned to the Eagle that had born him aloft and said, "Many thanks and blessings to you, Lord of the Eagles. We would not have survived that night, had you not been there to help."

"We had seen the fires from afar," the Eagle replied (much to Elsa's surprise), "And when we discovered you, we were only obliged to assist the one who assisted us long ago. May your quest end in success, noble _Istar._" And with that, the Eagle took off into the air, while the others delivered the dwarves as well. One eagle flew in low, carrying something in its talons; Elsa saw an unconscious Thorin, still clutching the elven blade in his hand. Gently, the bird dropped him onto the ground, and Gandalf moved quickly to his side. The wizard waved his hand and muttered some strange words, and soon the dwarf was breathing again, much to Elsa's relief.

He stood back up, helped onto his feet by the others, and looked straight in the direction of Bilbo. "You," he said, "What were you doing? You know you could've gotten yourself killed? Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?"

Bilbo looked down at the ground, ashamed. Elsa, however, felt indignation at these words, almost ready to give the dwarf a piece of her mind.

But then he said, "I have never been so wrong in all my life," catching the hobbit by surprise with a great embrace, arousing a cheer from the rest of the dwarves. Pulling back, Thorin said, "I'm sorry I doubted you."

Bilbo replied, "No no, I would have doubted me, too. I'm not a hero, or a warrior," he looked at Gandalf, "or even a burglar."

Thorin then turned to Elsa. "That goes to you too," he said. "You both saved my life. And on top of that, you both helped in the conquering of my enemy"

Elsa smiled, "Pretty impressive for a woman, right?"

The dwarf king then turned to his brothers, and shouted, "Azog the Defiler has been slain at long last! No more will his shadow haunt the house of Durin!" This resulted in a loud cheer from the dwarves, glad at last that the orc was gone.

In the midst of the raucous applause, Elsa turned to view the landscape around them. Far in the east, she could a single, solitary peak rising in the midst. "Is that…?" she began.

"Erebor," Gandalf answered, "The Lonely Mountain, the last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle-Earth." The others turned to see as well; tears were seen in the eyes of some, especially Balin.

"Our home," Thorin whispered.

Bilbo looked on in awe as well, but then he turned to Gandalf, asking, "Why couldn't we have just ridden on the eagles all the way there?"

"The Lord of the Eagles is an ally," the wizard explained, "not a servant. Besides, I think we can manage from here, just fine."

In a way, Elsa felt that he was right; the mountain seemed so far off and distant, but at the same time, she realized how far they had gone and how hard they had fought to get here, and with that in mind, it didn't seem too far away after all.

But fear yet again welled within her; a dragon probably still laid at the end of the road, waiting for them.


	9. Chapter 9: Into the Bear's Den

One rose-colored morning found Elsa somewhat tired, but more energized than what she might've experienced before, having trained her body to handle fewer hours of sleep. Still, she felt the temptation to doze off for a brief moment; surely the dwarves, preoccupied with packing things up from last night's break, wouldn't notice, right? But no, she told herself; Bilbo would be back from his scouting mission any time soon, and as soon as he did, they would be back on the move again.

It had been two weeks since the death of Azog, and thus far there had been no orcs, wargs, or dangers of any kind to beset the company during their descent from the Carrock. But both Thorin and Gandalf refused to allow such circumstances to slow them down, presumably out of precaution or an eagerness to reach the mountain. Thus, their meals had been light and quick (much to Bombur's disappointment), and their steps were hastened as they made their way over the mountain ridges and through these forests. For now, the company awaited Bilbo's return; Gandalf insisted that Bilbo scout out the area for enemies, citing the hobbit's natural stealth and light-footedness. Thorin had been reluctant to let Bilbo out of the group, and Elsa had felt the same way, but whether or not they shared the same reasons was another question entirely.

A short distance away, Elsa noticed Kili using a tree for target practice, having carved the crude shape of an orc into its trunk. Feeling somewhat mischievous, she flicked her finger as the young dwarf let loose an arrow; it wound up inches away from its mark, halted in midair by a wall of ice. At first, the archer was surprised, but quickly found the perpetrator and laughed; given the opportunity, he would have done something similar, she guessed.

"How am I supposed to know how to fell orcs," he asked with jest, "when you stop my arrows?"

"I don't know," she said, "something like that might happen for real."

"What, you mean ice is just going to pop out of nowhere to foil me?" he asked.

She shrugged.

The bushes started to rustle a short distance away; at the sound, everyone armed and readied themselves to meet it, until Bilbo emerged, appearing somewhat flustered.

"Tell us," Thorin said, "Did you see any orcs?"

"Nope," the hobbit panted; he seemed to have run back as fast as he could.

"See?" Gandalf said, "What did I tell you? Nothing to fear, and what more, he's as quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material!"

"Yes, but," Bilbo started, "I'm afraid we've got another problem."

"What is it?" Elsa asked.

"There's something else out there," the hobbit reported, "and it's LOOKING for us!"

At this, Gandalf suddenly became very solemn and serious. "What form did it take?" he asked. The others looked to the wizard, curious as to the meaning of his words. He went on, "Like a bear?"

"Yes, but much, MUCH bigger!" the hobbit said, spreading his arms to give an idea of the size of the creature.

"Then we must move," the Wizard declared, "There is a house, not far from here, where we might take refuge."

"Whose house?" Thorin asked, "Are they friend or foe?"

"Neither," Gandalf admitted, "He will help us or he will kill us."

"Then why take the risk?" Elsa asked, "Don't we have any other choice?"

A heavy roar sounded off in the distance, startling them all.

"No, we do not," said Gandalf. "Quickly now, let's move!"

At his word, the company immediately started off after him, though with no small degree of fear and confusion among them. Elsa felt no different; she wondered why, of all things, a bear would be the thing to avoid most in this place. True, she knew how dangerous a bear could be, but for someone like Gandalf to show so much concern…

* * *

><p>It wasn't until the middle of the day and when they approached the bottom of the mountain and entered open fields where the streams began to gather into ponds and the foliage became green. After sprinting across a stream and entering a forest of ash and dogwood, Elsa felt it necessary to voice her feelings. "If it's a bear you're worried about," she said to the wizard as they jogged over tall rocks and strewn logs, "I'm sure that we can take care of it…"<p>

"You will bring no harm upon that beast, Elsa, or you will have me to answer to," Gandalf commanded, much to Elsa's surprise.

"Why not?" asked Ori.

Gandalf started to answer, but then they heard a loud roar in the distance, followed by the sound of foliage being crushed under huge, fast-moving feet.

"He's found our scent," Gandalf said, "This way, HURRY!"

It didn't take much motivation to get everyone running; even Bombur started to pick up the pace, as the sound of the huge animal came closer and closer to them. Running down the path, they burst out of the dark forest into an open field. Up ahead, a tall, wild-looking hedge stood before them, with an open gate as its only weakness. The company, following Gandalf's lead, headed straight for it, entering a part of the property where the trees grew thick, and where stood large beehives nestled in the shade. Up ahead was a large house of stone and wood, with an open door taller than the tallest man that Elsa knew of, with a rusty old latch.

Another savage roar erupted behind them, and Elsa was foolish enough to turn and see its owner burst out of the forest; a massive bear, perhaps the biggest one she had ever seen in her life (and the only one), with thick black fur tipped with silver, broad paws with curved hooks for claws, fierce amber eyes, and long yellow teeth that it bared as it came charging towards them.

Gathering herself at Gandalf's behest, she kept on running for the door, and barely made it in time. As soon as she was in, the dwarves immediately shut the door behind her—only for the bear to ram against it, forcing the door open wide enough for it to poke it's long snout in before the combined strength of the dwarves shut the door again. Moving fast, they slid a large wooden beam into place, effectively locking the door against the beast. For a few moments, they listened in terror to the sounds of heavy growls and snuffing, of long claws being raked against wood, and then in relief as the growls slowly died away.

It took a few moments for anyone to gather the courage to speak.

"I think it's gone," Bofur declared.

"What is that?" Ori asked.

"That," Gandalf said, "Is our host."

Everyone looked at the wizard in a combination of surprised and disbelief.

"His name is Beorn," the wizard explained, "and he is a skin-changer. Sometimes he is a great strong man, and sometimes he is a huge black bear. The bear is unpredictable, but the man…can be reasoned with."

"Has someone placed him under some curse?" Elsa asked.

"The only enchantment Beorn is under is his own. Now, I have to warn you; there are two things that he is not fond of; dwarves, and uninvited guests."

"Well," Bilbo remarked, "That puts us between a rock and a hard place, doesn't it?"

"Yes; I had hoped that we would meet him in a better mood, but seeing how things are now, we will deal with that part when it comes. For now, take your rest. We'll be safe here for the night."

Elsa then looked around at their surroundings; they stood in what must have been a huge barn made entirely of unhewn stone and wood carved with intricate animal motifs, and the stone floor beneath her feet was covered in fine straw. All around them, beasts of various sorts walked around unhindered; large cattle stood calmly in the stalls while goats clopped around unhindered by dogs that gazed upwards at the travelers with intelligent eyes. Even mice scampered around the place, much to her disliking. Further down, she found that the furniture, the most prominent being a table flanked on all sides by a pair of chairs and benches standing in front of a vast fireplace, were all clearly built for someone much taller and larger than the average man. She wondered then, having seen the bear, what was the man like?

* * *

><p>Night fell upon the house of Beorn, and everyone was fast asleep in beds of straw—all except for Elsa. She was restless again, though she did not know why. It certainly wasn't their current circumstances, she could say that much. It was something else.<p>

Standing up, she carefully treaded over the sleeping dwarves, while also watching out for any stray mice, and tip-toed her way over to the nearest window. She peered outside, seeing the countryside, the dark forest, and the mountains beyond bathed in moonlight—but no bear was to be seen.

_You've come a long way, haven't you? _A familiar voice said. Elsa turned to see her sister, or rather, the vision of her sister. She turned away.

_Elsa, what's wrong?_ The vision asked, but Elsa refused to reply. _Why won't you talk to me? Is it something I said?_

"I'm not going to succumb to madness by speaking to a figment of my imagination," Elsa said quietly. The vision seemed hurt. Feeling guilty, Elsa added, "Look, I thank you for getting me on to the road, I really am. Just please, let me be…I don't need you to push me forward."

_It's not that, _the vision said, _You're doing a great job at that. I was just hoping we could talk for a bit._

"Talk about what?" Elsa asked.

_Well, _the vision started, _how about…what are you going to do when you're done? With the quest, I mean._

"Actually," Elsa admitted, "I haven't thought about that at all."

_Maybe you could come back to Arendelle? _The vision suggested.

The window pane beneath Elsa's arm became covered in frost. "I can't do that. You know I can't. We've already discussed this."

_Come on, Elsa…_

"Even if I wanted to, it's impossible."

_But Elrond talked about those special jewels, right?_

"He also said they were probably a myth."

_No he didn't. Besides, you've been running around with a wizard and a bunch of dwarves to go fight a fire-breathing dragon and fighting monsters all the way. I think that stretches the definition of impossible just a little bit._

"I'm not going back, and that's final. Besides, Arendelle's safer without me being around."

_Actually, about that…_the vision started.

Wood creaked somewhere. Elsa turned around, but the vision was gone again. She looked around in the dark, but saw no one else. Sighing to herself, she started back to where she had been sleeping—but stopped in her tracks.

There lay Bilbo where she had last seen him, his back turned to her. He seemed to be fiddling something around in his hands, but she couldn't see what…

Suddenly, there was the sound of wood creaking. Elsa held still for a moment, waiting to see if anything else were to happen. Had Beorn returned?

Nervously, Elsa moved away from her hiding place, and saw nothing. Feeling assured, but still on high alert, she made her way back to her bed, wanting some sleep.

* * *

><p>The next morning came, it's light stirring Elsa out of her fitful sleep—along with the enormous bee that came buzzing by and made an attempt to land on her head. Mildly surprised, she shooed it away with a small flicker of frost, and found that she lay alone on the bed of hay—only Bilbo could be seen.<p>

"Morning," she said to him.

"Where'd everyone go?" Bilbo asked.

However, the noise of arguing dwarves answered their question, and guided them to the back door, where they found the rest of the company nervously gathered together, with Gandalf standing near the open exit, and Bofur standing at the window. Outside, she heard the _thwack_ of a large axe splitting wood apart, one after the other.

"I say we should leg it," Nori said, "and slip out the back while we still can."

"I'm not running from anyone," Dwalin growled, "beast or no."

"There is no point in arguing," Gandalf said, "We shall need his assistance. Ah, Bilbo, Elsa, there you are," he said as she came up. "This will require some delicate handling, so we must tread very carefully; the last person to have startled him was torn to shreds."

Elsa couldn't believe what she had just heard. Why was it that almost every person they met on this journey wanted to kill them? For once, and only to an extent, she sided with Nori.

"I will go first," Gandalf said, "And Bilbo; you'll come with me, as will you, Elsa."

Once more, Gandalf's plan seemed like insanity to Elsa, but she came with Bilbo anyway, some inkling of faith stirring within her.

"Is—is this a good idea?" Bilbo asked.

"Yes. Now the rest of you will wait here, and don't come out until I give the signal," Gandalf said.

"Right," said Bofur, "Wait for the signal."

"And no sudden movements or loud noises, or you'll overcrowd him. Only come out in pairs," Gandalf said as he started to turn—only to step back in and say, "Actually, Bombur…you count as two, so you should come out alone."

The hefty Bombur only nodded as he munched on a carrot.

"Remember, wait for the signal," Gandalf reminded them before leading Bilbo and Elsa out the door and into the open, walking past a flock of black hens that pecked and scratched in the dust, a feeding pig and a reclining sheep along the way. A short distance off, against the backdrop of a wide field of brown and white horses frolicking about with the forest and the mountains further back behind them, there stood a man taller than any man Elsa had ever seen in her young life. He wore only a pair of rough brown trousers and no shirt, showing off powerful, sinewy muscles that were nevertheless partly concealed by a long mane of grey-tinged hair running down his back. The man stood before a large hewn log, upon which he placed a far smaller piece of wood and split it into two with an intimidatingly large axe that, Elsa suspected, had not always claimed trees as its primary victims in its past.

She looked over at Gandalf for some sign of confidence she could lean on, but even in him there lay evidence of anxiety, if not outright terror, as he took off his pointed hat and slicked back his hair.

Bilbo noticed this, and was quick to verbally point it out. "You're nervous!" he said.

THWACK went the man's axe.

"What? Nervous? Nonsense," Gandalf grumbled.

"It's alright," Elsa whispered, "Just don't let it show."

Gandalf didn't seem to outright acknowledge this, but he did put on a friendly smile. "Good morning!" he said to the man.

THWACK went the man's axe again, and Elsa found herself having to stand behind Gandalf, along with Bilbo.

"Good morning…" Gandalf said again, somewhat louder, this time.

The man heaved and laid the blade of the axe against the chopping block, but did not turn to face them. "Who are you?" he growled.

"I am Gandalf," the wizard said as he gently bowed, "Gandalf the Grey."

The man turned around to face them, and just past the strands of Gandalf's silver hair, Elsa noticed the wild, thick beard that he grew, the strange shape the bridge of his nose took, and more importantly, the fierceness that lay in those brown eyes of his. She also saw, to her surprise, the metal cuffs turned a reddish brown by the years clasped upon his wrists, and the scars upon his chest as well.

"Never heard of him," Beorn growled.

"I'm a wizard," Gandalf explained, "Perhaps you've heard of my colleague, Radagast the Brown. He resides in the Southern Borders of Mirkwood."

"What do you want?"

"Well, simply to thank you for your hospitality!" the wizard answered, "You may have noticed that we took refuge in your lodgings here, last night." As he spoke, he gestured towards the house and unexpectedly exposed Elsa and Bilbo to Beorn's view.

"Who is this little fellow," Beorn said, tightening his grip upon the axe, "and the girl?"

"Oh, well this would be Mister Baggins of the Shire," Gandalf said, nudging them forward, "and Miss Elsa of Arendelle." In spite of the unease she now felt in the view of the giant, Elsa did her best to gently smile and curtsy.

Beorn's attention seemed to be on Bilbo, however. "He's not a dwarf, is he?" Past his lips, Elsa saw that his two pairs of canine teeth were, to be honest, a bit more fang-like than they should have been.

"Why, no!" Gandalf assured him, "He's a hobbit; good family, and of an unimpeachable reputation."

"A Halfling, a human girl, and a wizard," Beorn observed, "How come you here?"

"Oh, well the fact is that we've had a bad time of it from goblins in the mountains," Gandalf explained.

"What did you go near goblins for?" Beorn asked, "Stupid thing to do."

"You are absolutely right…" Gandalf said, waving his hand up and down. The rest of what he said, however, was lost on Elsa, as her attention was drawn elsewhere by the sound of tromping boots. She turned and saw Dwalin and Balin stepping down from out of the house, where they stood and introduced themselves by name, only. She turned back to see Beorn holding the axe firmly within his own hands, as if ready to fend them off by any means.

"I must confess that, um, several of our group are in fact dwarves," Gandalf admitted, slightly stumbling over his words and looking very worried.

"Do you call two _several?_" Beorn said.

"Well, when you put it that way…erm…well there _could _be more than two," Gandalf said as he counted his fingers—but then at that, Óin and Glóin came running out and hastily bowing towards the great man.

"Oh, and here are some more of our happy troop!" Gandalf said, trying to make the situation seem less than what it was.

"And do you call six a _troop_?" said Beorn, clearly growing more and more agitated, "What are you, a traveling circus?"

All Gandalf could do was chuckle nervously.

Already, Elsa started to have flashbacks to the Goblin Tunnels, in the court of the Goblin King, and it seemed to her that this meeting would turn out similarly to that.

Just then, Ori and Dori came out of the house as well, bowing and offering their service along with their names, which Beorn promptly refused.

"Absolutely understandable," Gandalf said, but before he said anymore, Fili and Kili soon came out—followed promptly by Nori, Bofur, Bifur, and finally Bombur, much to Gandalf's shame as he listed them off by name.

"Is that it?" Beorn asked, "Are there any more?"

From behind the doorpost, Thorin himself came out at long last. Upon him, Beorn seemed to focus his attention most of all.

At first, Elsa felt sure that bad things would follow, but shortly afterwards, Beorn put on a vest of rough brown fabric and treated the company to a breakfast of nuts, berries, and crushed grains as huge bees buzzed around them, and mice crawled all over the table, but carefully enough not to enter the large bowls and plates. The skin-changer had been kind enough to give Elsa one of his chairs as a seat, but even then she felt like a very small child, using such oversized ware. It must have been even stranger for the dwarves and the hobbit. During the meal, Gandalf told them of their mission, and all that had happened up until then. When they got to the part about Azog's demise, Beorn seemed to pay special attention. "My people were the first to live in the mountains," he explained, "before the orcs came from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved, not for work mind you, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

"There are others like you?" Bilbo asked.

"Once there were many," Beorn replied, "Now there is only one."

The huge man sat down in his equally enormous arm chair. "You have done a great deed, Oakenshield, by destroying the Defiler. But that will not ease your journey; there are others of his ilk, others that share his thirst for revenge." He then turned to Gandalf. "So, you need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn."

"Before Durin's day," the wizard replied, "Yes."

"You are running out of time."

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood."

"A darkness lies upon that forest," Beorn warned. He went on to tell them of foul things that crept within the branches of the trees, of growing numbers of orcs that gathered at a place called Dol Guldur, and of a mysterious 'Necromancer' that ruled the place. The more and more the skin-changer spoke of all that went on in Mirkwood, the less Elsa desired to step foot in there.

"I would not go in that forest," Beorn concluded, "unless it was of dire need."

"We will take the elven road," Gandalf replied, "That path is still safe."

"Safe? The Wood Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin," Beorn said, "They are less wise, and more dangerous."

At this remark, Bofur leaned over to Elsa and whispered, "Definitely not angels."

"But it matters not," Beorn continued, "These lands are crawling with orcs, and their numbers grow by the day. You are on foot; you will never reach the forest alive."

He stood up from his armchair and slowly walked over to the other side of the table, plucking a mouse that Dwalin had brushed off from the table. "I don't like dwarves," he growled, "They're greedy, and blind to the needs of those whom they deem worth less than their own."

Elsa found herself looking across at Thorin for some reason, and felt that their quest had ended too soon.

The Skin-Changer spoke again.

"But I hate orcs even more. What do you need?"

* * *

><p>Two hours later, and the company had departed from the house of the skin-changer, with fresh supplies in their sacks and astride Beorn's white and brown horses, riding over the rolling hills so smoothly that Elsa could've sworn they were in fact flying across the landscape. Still, it couldn't compare to the actual sensation of flight that she had felt weeks earlier. Before they left, however, Beorn and Gandalf had stood afar off discussing something—but what it had been, Elsa could not tell.<p>

Before they knew it, they had come across Mirkwood itself—and Elsa did not like the look of it at all. The trees here seemed twisted, even malformed, and the brush inside was wild and tangled, even for forest underbrush. Beyond that, the leaves of the trees seemed to block out any light, making the inside seem darker than night itself.

Gandalf dismounted his horse and walked over to the remains of a stone gate, the style of which reminded Elsa of that of Rivendell. "The Elven Gate," he said, "Here lies our path through Mirkwood." He indicated the path by pointing his staff towards some worn and weathered stones on the ground, and then instructed the company to start letting the horses loose, explaining that they would return to their master.

Dismounting her horse, Elsa got a better look at the forest, for better or worse. She could hear no birds other than the cawing of crows, and a faint smell of death and decay came with a small breeze. Bilbo stood next to her, and viewed the forest clearly with the same feelings as she did.

"Is there no other way around this place?" she asked.

"Well, if you want to travel two hundred miles to the north," Gandalf answered, "or two hundred miles to the south…"

That made it clear to her that there was no other way. She looked down at the hobbit next to her.

"Are you afraid to go in there, too?" she asked him.

"Well…" the hobbit replied, "Maybe a little bit. But surely we've managed to get through worse, right?"

"Right," she answered, feeling slightly more confident.

"Not to mention we've got Gandalf with us," he added, "So what's the worst that could happen?"

Just then, Gandalf, moving away from the Elven gate, shouted to the dwarf that had started unbridling his horse, "Don't touch that one! I need him."

Everyone looked at the wizard in surprise and despair. "Where are you going?" Thorin asked.

"There is business to the south that I must take care of," Gandalf explained, "Urgent business."

"So, you're just going to abandon us?" Bilbo asked.

"I would not leave you all if I didn't have to," the Wizard said to him, and Elsa could sense the sincerity in his words. But still, what was so urgent to make the wizard leave the party at this time?

The wizard lingered for a moment on the hobbit, concern wrinkling his brow. "Something's different about you, Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf then said, "You're not the same hobbit as the one I first met, not the same hobbit that left the Shire."

The hobbit shifted uncomfortably and stuck his hands in his pocket. Elsa's thoughts then turned back to the night before, when she had seen him fiddling with…whatever it was that he had.

"I-I was going to tell you," Bilbo stammered, "I found something in the Goblin Tunnels."

"What did you find?" Gandalf asked quietly.

After a long pause, Bilbo answered, "My courage!" Elsa, however, as much as she wanted to, didn't seem to quite believe him. However, the answer seemed good enough for the wizard. "Good, very good," he said, "You'll need it."

Then Elsa moved to speak with him. "Gandalf," she said, "Please, promise that you'll come back."

"Of course, Elsa," the wizard replied. Leaning in closer, he whispered to her, "And you promise me that you'll look after these dwarves. Sometimes it seems like I can never leave them alone without them getting into trouble."

She nodded reluctantly. Rain, meanwhile, began to fall, but around her it turned to pelting bits of ice.

He then climbed onto his horse, saying to the dwarves, "I will meet you on the Overlook, on the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe, and do not enter that mountain without me."

That last part he said to Thorin in particular.

"This is not the Greenwood of old," the Wizard continued, "There is a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water. Cross only by the stone bridge. The very air is heavy with illusion; it will seek to enter your mind to lead you astray, but do not, I repeat, DO NOT step off the path. If you do, you will never find it again." And with that, he said his farewells, and the company watched as he rode away into the south, becoming smaller and smaller in the distance until they could distinguish him no more.

Elsa turned to look into the entrance of the forest; had the darkness in those trees grown stronger? "He's going to come back, right?" she asked.

"He's had a pretty good track record, thus far," observed Fili.

Thorin then spoke, "Alright, let's get moving. Everyone stay together." With great reluctance, the company then followed their leader into Mirkwood; Elsa took a brief moment to look at the light for one last time, before stepping into the forest.


	10. Chapter 10: Webs of Mirkwood

How long did they wander in the dark forests of Mirkwood? Elsa certainly couldn't tell; one could barely discern a change of light, and any increase in darkness could easily be ascribed to having entered a part in the forest where the trees had simply grown thicker. It was almost enough to make her believe that day and night had become one in this bizarre place, and that time had ceased to exist. It certainly didn't help the travelers on their journey; remembering the dangers that Beorn and Gandalf had cited, Thorin refused to let the company rest for any longer than he felt necessary. Elsa understood his reasons, but she was sure there were other causes for wanting to keep going; the trees around them had grown so huge and tangled together, making her feel claustrophobic, while they were forced to breathe in the stale and humid air still tinged with the smell of death and decay. No birdsong could be heard, even that of crows; only the echoes of the dwarves arguing amongst themselves kept running through the trees. It was like being in a dank cave…and Elsa wanted no more than to be out.

Thus far, the company had maintained success in keeping to the Elven Path, with Dwalin or Thorin thumping their staffs on the ground every now and then to make sure of it, or when they came across a fork in the road. In addition, Elsa walked behind the company and left a trail of frost along the edge of the path, allowing them to turn around and check where they were going every now and then. The fact that, oftentimes, the road seemed determined to throw them off made that a constant; it took them through twists and turns under, over, and around things, while occasionally some log or stone blocked their path, requiring them to climb over it. There seemed to be no end to it, and the forest around them just kept becoming more and more sinister; large cobwebs even marked parts of the path.

Along the way, Bofur called out from up ahead, "We've found the bridge!" But when they came up to see it, there was barely anything left to call a bridge; the middle section had collapsed into the dark, mist-shrouded water a long time ago.

"We could try swimming across it," Bofur suggested.

"Have you so swiftly forgotten, dear Bofur, whom we have with us?" Thorin said as he looked towards Elsa.

"You don't have to ask me twice," she said as she stepped forward. Feeling somewhat useful again, she cast forth her magic and bridged the gap with her ice (and added a handrail for good measure). With no small sigh of relief, the company moved forward across the bridge…only to stop halfway, by none other than Thorin himself.

She looked in the direction his hardened stare had gone, and a good ways off, there stood a stag coated in fur of pure white shining in the gloom of the forest. She found it to be just utterly beautiful, probably the most beautiful thing she had seen thus far in this place…

But then, an arrow whizzed by, startling the stag and causing it to bolt away from them in the trees. Saddened, she looked over and saw that Thorin's hand laid on his bow, showing the signs that he had loosed that arrow.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"You shouldn't have done that," Bilbo said, "It's bad luck."

"We make our own luck," Thorin countered.

Suddenly, something cracked behind them, followed by a heavy splash. They turned to see Bombur lying in the stream surrounded by chunks of ice railing, fast asleep and snoring away.

Fortunately they were able to extract him from out of the water, careful as not to touch the water, and drag him to the other side, where Elsa froze and dried away the wet stream. But still he did not wake up, forcing them, for the time being, to carry him upon a stretcher, an effort that took four of their number to do.

* * *

><p>On and on the company went, deeper and deeper into the forest and carrying the heavy weight of Bombur upon their shoulders. Sometime along their way, things began to get strange; once or twice, Elsa noticed that, as twisted as the forest was, it somehow began to be more twisted and gnarled, but she dismissed this. Time passed, and she turned her head to look behind, and could've sworn that there was one more dwarf in their party than usual.<p>

Still, they kept walking. Elsa began to feel her head spin, and found it harder to keep on her feet without stumbling. In her state, she could see similar effects on the others; Ori, for example, kept spinning around while they went, and Bilbo kept staring at nothing as if there was something there.

All along the way, the cobwebs grew larger and thicker as well.

Suddenly, Dwalin halted the entire company. "We've lost it," he said, "We've lost the path!"

"How did we lose it?" Nori asked, "Haven't we been keeping track of it?"

"That's right," Glóin said. He turned to Elsa and asked her, "Elsa, you've been leaving a trail for us, right?"

But Elsa didn't hear a word the dwarves were saying. She heard things on the wind…the sound of a child's voice whispering to her in the night….

_"Do you want to build a snowman?"_

* * *

><p>After waving his hand in front of her for a bit, Glóin shrugged and turned to the group, saying, "She seems pretty out of it. I'm not getting anything out of her."<p>

They sent Ori to check the path behind them, but he swiftly returned and reported, "I can't find any ice at all along the path! She must have stopped casting some time ago!"

"Well, how long ago was THAT?" Óin grumbled. No one could say for sure.

Bilbo had a very hard time thinking straight, and the arguing dwarves around him did not help at all. There had to be a way out of this mess, and they needed to find it; just earlier, Bilbo had been seeing double of himself, goodness only knew how that was possible.

After finally admitting they were lost, Thorin said, "We need to get our directions straightened. Someone is going to have to go up there," he pointed up towards the canopy, "and have a look around, figure out which way is where."

Bilbo had the suspicion that they would've have volunteered him anyway, so he set about climbing the tree himself. With two of the dwarves hoisting him up, Bilbo managed to grab the nearest branch and, having in mind the many times he had climbed the old oak in his youth, made his way up towards the top. The further up he went, the cleaner and fresher the air seemed to be, and his mind seemed to become clearer as a result of it. At last, he could see places where the sunlight broke through the thick leaves and branches, and he moved for it like a bee to a flower. His head broke through first, and he took in a deep breath of fresh, clean air, as if he had come up out of the water. It was an apt comparison to say the very least; all around him was a veritable sea of autumn red leaves that rippled in waves as the wind blew by. Up above, the sky was decked in rosy colors as the sun began to set in the west. West…where home was, Bilbo thought. Thoughts of Bag End came to mind, with its warm hearth, soft bed, and old books…

Suddenly, a large swarm of purple and blue butterflies burst into the air around him in a flurry of wings, and flew towards a distant island in this ocean of foliage…wait, an island? Realizing what it truly was, it was enough to make him shed a tear or two.

"I can see the mountain!" he called out below, "We're almost there! We've just got to keep heading east!"

But no reply came. Instead, Bilbo noticed a chill wind moving in the trees below, and bringing with it a flurry of snowflakes. That couldn't be right; autumn had barely started…

Elsa, he realized. Something's wrong.

* * *

><p><em>She held the limp body of her sister in her arms, scared and alone, crying for help, any help. Surely Mama and Papa could help; they had been able to fix any problem…<em>

_They did come…but there was fear and accusation in their eyes as they stared down at her. "Elsa," her father asked quietly, "What have you done?"_

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to…"

_ Her parents were replaced by other voices, other faces, other feelings…_

_There is great danger in your powers Elsa…_

_ Fear will be your enemy…_

_ Conceal it, don't feel it…_

"I can't," she cried, "It's getting stronger, I can't conceal it!"

_New faces began to surround her; faces filled with fear, hate, callousness, all of them staring down at her, yelling, screaming, crying…._

"Please, stay away," she begged, "I don't want to hurt you!"

_Their voices were inaudible, a blur of murmuring and wailing, but there was one word she heard above all the rest: _

_MONSTER._

"No, please," she sobbed, "I'm not a monster! I'm just trying to protect you…"

_A dark shadowy figure rose up before her, staring down at her with eyes of red fire, and spoke to her in a horrible, soul-wrenching voice._

_ "You are right, Elsa of Arendelle. You're not a monster. You are merely a coward."_

* * *

><p>By the time Bilbo made his way down to the forest floor, a winter storm was already at hand; bitter winds whipped by at high speed, ripping off leaves and twigs off of branches and covering the trunks and branches in white snow. Elsa lay at the center of it all; the wind whirled around her in a vortex as she knelt on the ground, covering her face in her hands.<p>

Bilbo leapt down onto the ground from the trees, failing to see that the dwarves had gone missing. "Elsa!" he cried, deafened by the roar of the wind and blinded by the stinging cold, "Elsa! Listen to me! You've got to stop this!"

Did she hear him? He certainly couldn't say for certain; he could barely hear himself in this wind.

He pushed against the biting cold, pressing forward to her, only knowing that he had to get to her. With every step he took, the wind only seemed to increase in strength, and the temperature continued to drop.

"Elsa," he shouted, "I don't know what it is you're seeing, but it's NOT REAL! It's all that enchantment that Gandalf talked about, don't you remember? You can fight it!"

Drawing closer and fighting to ignore the growing numbness in his legs and face, he could hear her saying something under her breath; it sounded to him like, "Monster," and "coward."

"Elsa," he started, "I know you're stronger than this. You can beat this. I've seen you do great—no, amazing things, so many times. You are not a monster, and you are certainly NOT a coward."

There was one last thing he could try, one last thing to snap her out of it…something she had probably never heard in a long time, and certainly something he never expected himself to say.

"Elsa," he started, "I l…"

But then a huge gust of cold wind lifted the hobbit off of his feet and blew him into the air, crashing through tree branches, and knocking his head on a limb, putting him out cold…

* * *

><p><em>Elsa felt the world around her become dark and silent, the voices dying away, and a heavy fog wash over her. Deeper and deeper she began to sink, not knowing where she was going, but welcome to the idea of oblivion taking her away…<em>

_ Don't give up, Elsa, a voice said. We're counting on you._

* * *

><p>It seemed like ages before Elsa came to her senses again; she felt something pulling her, tugging at her leg. Slowly her hearing returned to her, and she heard voices…<p>

"The ice spirit is dead, I say! Dead and cold! No good for feasting."

"But see! It still breathes; there must be good juices inside."

"It's too skinny to have the good juices! Not like the dwarves we've snatched up! No good juices, no good juices, just dead and frozen! Not good for feasting."

"I say there IS good juices inside! It IS good for feasting!"

Slowly Elsa's vision became clear. She could see the light above, and the boughs of the trees covered in snow…and things crawling across them.

Something jerked on her ankle again. Raising her head off of the ground, she saw some white, silvery threads wrapped around her ankle. Following the line, she saw the end being held in the claws of a spider large enough to tackle a horse to the ground. Another one sat next to it, and both of them were drooling out of their hideous mandibles as they spoke to each other in harsh chattering voices.

Suddenly regaining all thought through the desire to live (that or a newborn phobia), she kicked and yanked her foot out of the spider's pull. The two arachnids jumped in surprise.

"It's still alive!" one chattered.

"See? See? I told you there were good juices inside!" the other replied.

"Snatch it and wrap it," its companion replied, "before it flees!"

Thinking fast she cast a bolt of frost at the foul creatures, blinding them and sending them away screaming. But then she heard chattering and hissing all around her; in a spin, she saw several other spiders crawling out of the brush or along the branches up above. One of the spiders leapt at her off of the snow-covered trunk of a tree; instinctively, she raised razor sharp icicles toward it, and it impaled itself on the ice. A far larger one charged from behind, but Elsa didn't raise an ice shield in time; it threw her to the ground. Grabbing it by the legs, it took all of her strength to lift it away from her body. It swished its fang-tipped mandibles at her, desiring her blood, and flicking its saliva all over the place. A layer of frost began to grow onto the spider's leg, causing it to shriek in pain. Gathering her strength, Elsa kicked the creature off of her—unfortunately keeping its frozen legs, which she promptly cast aside.

But even with their casualties, the other spiders continued to move forward. Realizing she couldn't stay in one place without getting overwhelmed, Elsa began to run, casting frost bolts at the spiders. Undeterred, the creatures followed her, hunger driving them on.

She ran through a particularly dark part of the forest, the trees here being covered in vast shimmering webs and crawling with more of the vermin. It seemed like a never-ending fight for Elsa as she went; as many spiders as she was able to fend off with icicle spears or freeze in place, more seemed to arrive in their ranks.

Fortunately, salvation came in the form of a dirt hidden beneath a large fallen log; after freezing the immediate spiders pursuing her, Elsa dived underneath the log (glad to find that nothing was hiding beneath there as well), and watched from a peephole of sorts as other spiders arrived on the scene.

"Where is it?" one spider hissed, "where is the cold spirit?"

"Can't be far," another chattered, "Can't be far at all."

"It must have magic juices in it," another mused, "If we feast on it, then do we get the magic in its juices?"

Before the other could answer, it dropped dead, the shaft of an arrow sticking out between its multiple eyes. The others shrieked, raising their forearms in defense at some unseen enemy. Elsa watched in awe as two elves in green and brown leaped onto the scene and dispatched the rest of the spiders with unmatched fluidity and grace, using nothing but a bow and arrow and a pair of daggers between the two of them.

After a few moments, the two of them noticed the ice formations left behind by Elsa in her flight. They spoke to each other in the same fluid language that Elsa heard back in Rivendell between Elrond and Gandalf, and while she still didn't understand a word of it, she was certain she could understand the meaning; no doubt they were questioning where all the ice and snow had come from.

She started to move out of her hiding place, but then a voice whispered, "No Elsa, wait!" In her surprise she turned to see Bilbo, looking somewhat bruised and covered in spider-webs. She started to speak, but then the hobbit silenced her, saying, "Don't speak, or they'll hear you!"

For two intense minutes, they watched as the two elves debated in their foreign tongue. Then, they seemed to come to an agreement, and ran out of sight. With that, Elsa and Bilbo sighed in relief.

"It's good to see you in one place," Bilbo said to her.

"What happened?" she asked. "I don't remember much."

"You don't?"

"No…but I do remember being very afraid."

"Well, that explains the snowstorm."

"Snowstorm…was that me?"

He nodded, and then went on to explain all that had happened after Elsa's storm; he had woken up to find himself and the dwarves all wrapped up in the webs of the huge spiders. After cutting himself out and engaging the spiders with his sword (which he afterwards named Sting), he went on to free the dwarves from their silken prisons, but was separated again from them after some new spiders caught him in the act and attacked.

"But why are we hiding?" Elsa asked, "Those were Elves."

"When I went to find you and the dwarves again," Bilbo explained, "those elves had taken them all prisoner."

"You're kidding," she said. She then sighed, and leaned back against the earthen wall, saying, "This is completely my fault. If I hadn't lost control back there…if I hadn't…"

"No Elsa, it's alright," Bilbo replied, "I think those spiders certainly would have attacked anyway, snowstorm or no snowstorm. Besides, to be fair, Gandalf did say there are some strange enchantments in this wood; I think we were all out of our minds for a bit."

"But what are we supposed to do?" she asked.

"Well," he said, "I know where they've gone, and I think I've got a pretty good plan for how to save Thorin and the others."

"You do?"

"Yes…but I don't think you're going to like it very much."


	11. Chapter 11: Thranduil's Proposal

Elsa wandered somewhat aimlessly through the darkness of the forest for some time, the fear prompted by anticipation welling in her heart. She looked around nervously, partly for any more spiders, partly for the Wood Elves, and partly for Bilbo; he had told her that he would be close by, but she didn't see hide or hair of him anywhere. How he was able to vanish like that, she didn't know, but apparently he really was suited for the job of being a burglar.

But even then, she hated the idea of being completely alone, waiting for something to leap out and strike; it had taken a lot of coaxing from Bilbo to get her to go along with his plan, especially given her part it. What won her over was the thought of what sort of state the dwarves must have been in at that time; she remembered Beorn's description of the Mirkwood Elves, and too well the dwarves' distaste for them. That probably did not work in their favor.

Fortunately for her, the only spiders she encountered were those already dead, their vital fluids leaking out of well-placed wounds on their armored bodies, so that left only one thing to be afraid of. Whether those fears were well-founded or not, she would have to see.

Everything was quiet all around her, save for the sound of falling leaves and the creaking of branches in the wind. It did nothing to ease her tension.

Conceal it, don't feel it, she kept telling herself. For once in her life, those words had at least some use to them…

She heard a branch snapping from behind. Instinctively, she twisted around and raised her arms in defense, ready to send forth a blast of cold…but there was nothing there. She sighed in relief, and then quietly said to herself, "If these elves don't show up soon enough, I'm going to have a heart attack."

Turning around, she found herself facing the wrong end of an arrow on a loaded bowstring. Seconds later, she was surrounded by four or five elven archers, all of them aiming their arrows right at her. She raised her arms into the air as a sign of surrender. Their leader, an elven male with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, approached from behind a tree.

"Who are you?" the lead elf demanded of her, "What are you doing in this part of the forest?"

Elsa struggled to make the words come out of her throat; it wasn't easy when her life hung by a thread. Finally, she managed to speak, saying, "I request that you take me to…whoever's in charge around here."

He then asked, "What business does a mere human woman have with the King of Mirkwood?"

"My business is my own," she replied. She didn't think it was a good idea to say 'try to save the dwarves you've captured' right then and there. "Take me to your king, first."

"No one sees King Thranduil unless he demands it," the blonde elf stated.

To persuade him, she flicked her wrist, and a soft layer of snow wrapped around the base of a tree, much to the surprise of her captors.

"Will he see me now?" she asked.

After a moment of astonishment, the blonde elf turned his back to her, apparently to contemplate, while the others kept their bows locked on to her, but nervously looking at him for orders. He then turned back and gave a command in Elvish to the others, who lowered their bows. To her, he said, "Follow me."

So far, so good, she thought.

Cautiously, they led her through the dark forest over twisted paths, out of the realm of webs and dead spiders. As they went, the scenery slowly became more and more inviting and pleasant; while the trees continued to be massive, they didn't seem quite as imposing and twisted as the ones she had previously encountered. The light broke through the boughs and branches above with greater strength, brightening their path.

Eventually, they came to their destination; across a bridge over a powerful whitewater river that roared by was a massive gate cut into the side of a massive rock, supported by pillars with elegant designs carved into them, and a pair of armored guards flanking a massive door, who opened it upon their approach.

All the while, Elsa couldn't help but wonder where Bilbo was all this time.

They entered, and upon stepping inside, Elsa gazed about in wonder at the massive interior of the Elven Fortress; golden lamps illuminated a sprawling network of bridges and staircases, either carved of stone or carved of wood, with cascading waterfalls and streams rushing past moss-covered stones, while columns supported the natural cavern ceiling above. It seemed to her like the perfect union of nature and civilization.

Behind her, the gate shut with a thunderous boom. At the same time, Elsa noticed a soft pitter-pattering sound moving away from her, but she could not see to whom it belonged.

The elves led her over bridges and up and down various stairs as they traveled on, and Elsa didn't mind one bit, seeing how it allowed her to take in as much of the scenery around her as possible. But the tour came to an end; they stopped before turning a corner inside a tunnel, and the blonde elf instructed one of the others to move on ahead. She could only assume that he was the messenger, sent to announce their arrival.

They stood waiting for some time, silence pervading in the air, until at last the messenger elf arrived to let them move on.

After another good long while, they finally arrived at a place elevated above the ground, where a throne made of seemingly woven branches stood, crowned with the skull of an elk with massive antlers. Just below, she saw him; the Elven King, with a crown of branches and autumn leaves on a head of flowing yellow hair, and icy blue eyes that looked down at everything below with what she could only describe as the predatory intensity of a hawk. At the moment, he was quietly discussing something with a red-haired elven woman, looking up when Elsa's captors arrived. The blonde elf stepped forward and said something to him in Elvish. After a moment, the Elvenking gave a command, and the elves surrounding Elsa left her side. He then motioned for Elsa to follow him. But before she did, the blonde elf grabbed her arm. He leaned in close to Elsa, saying, "If you try anything, sorceress, I will kill you."

"Legolas," the Elvenking said, "Enough."

With only the slightest hint of disappointment in his expression, Legolas released her arm, allowing her to follow the King.

He led her down a flight of stairs, through a door, and into a small chamber where stood a pool of water the color of lapis lazuli.

Thranduil spoke first; "You must pardon my son for the initial hostilities. So, _you_ are the source of the strange winter storm in the forest. Tell me, what is your name?"

"Elsa, my lord."

"And what business does one with such powers have in Mirkwood?"

She breathed in deeply, gathering as much confidence as she could and recalling all of the lessons she had been taught regarding diplomacy and politics.

"My lord, I have come to negotiate the release of Thorin Oakenshield and his companions," she declared.

Thranduil looked up in surprise. "What do you have to do with him?" he asked, but then after a pause, the answer seemed to come to him. "Ah…so you are involved in his little quest, then?"

"Yes, but don't assume that you can lock me away as well."

"Very well, then. However, if you plan on threatening me with your…abilities, then prepare to be disappointed."

"Open hostility was never my intention, your highness."

"Then I am to presume you have something to barter with in exchange for thirteen dwarves?"

"I have been promised a share of the treasure of the treasure in Erebor," she explained, "That share can be yours, but only if you release the dwarves."

"So, you option for bribery," the Elvenking noted. "A bold move, but unfortunately it won't do you much good. Whether Oakenshield and his companions go free is up to him, and I am not under the belief that he will acquiesce any time soon."

"Acquiesce to what?" she asked.

"Believe it or not, I too have made a request of him, similar to yours," Thranduil explained, "More specific than the treasure itself, mind you; there are gems in the mountain that I desire. White gems of pure starlight."

She looked at him rather incredulously. "Is that it?" she asked, "They sound beautiful, but it seems a like such a small thing to want."

Suddenly, Thranduil whipped around fast enough to make her jump. "They are NOT," he declared with enough force and authority for her to take him seriously. "I've never told Oakenshield, and I doubt his father and grandfather knew it, but those gems are worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

"How so?" she asked, becoming more and more curious.

"Because those gems," he said in a quiet voice, "hold the power to open the bridge between worlds, and allow one free passage between them."

Elsa's heart skipped a beat at his words, and she remembered Elrond having said something similar just weeks before. But then she shrugged it off. "It sounds like a rather silly tale to me," she said.

"I wouldn't consider it so," Thranduil replied rather coldly. "Would you consider something that your father guarded against the forces of evil for thousands of years a silly tale? Something that he used to teach you the knowledge of a hundred worlds; something he gave his very life to recover after it had been lost, only for it to wind up in the possession of an avaricious dwarven king, and eventually to fall into the clutches of a fire breathing dragon? Tell me, Elsa, does that sound like something to make light of?"

She shook her head softly, intimidated by his sudden show of passion and emotion.

After a moment of silence, Thranduil went on. "It seems strange to me," he said, "that someone like you would consider such a treasure to be nothing but a mere legend; I would've leaped at such an opportunity if I were in your shoes."

Elsa's eyes widened. Did he know? No, that was impossible… "I don't know what you mean," she stammered.

"Do not deny what is true," Thranduil said, "While I cannot say where you come from, I know that it is not anywhere in Middle-Earth; no one could possess such power over wind and snow…" he noticed a flurry of snowflakes drifting in a chill wind, "…or lack thereof."

Conceal, don't feel, Elsa told herself, conceal don't feel! Fortunately, the snow seemed to recede, but only slightly.

"Yes, well," she started up again, "What difference does it make to you where I hail from? What does it matter?"

"It matters," the Elvenking replied, "because I believe that I can offer _you _a deal, now." He walked over to the other side of the chamber. "I will let your little friends go if you promise to return to me what is mine. On top of that, I will even let you use them to return to your home."

"I don't intend to return there," she said, "Arendelle is far safer without me being there."

"Is it?" he questioned, "Don't tell me that you do not think of this 'Arendelle' every now and then. Does the thought of what condition your friends are in, or even your own family, not trouble you? I for one would probably be driven mad, not knowing if my own family was in safe hands…"

As much as she did not want to admit it, she hadn't seriously thought of it…but now she did. Her thoughts turned to her only surviving family member, Anna…what had become of her? Had she taken care of the kingdom? Had she gone on with her plans for marriage? Was she safe? Was that vision Elsa had seen of her been anything other than a vision? The thoughts and fears that had glimmered briefly in Rivendell now seemed to shine all the more brighter here...

…No, she told herself. This was all an act. It had to be; surely he was manipulating her for his own ends.

She turned back to Thranduil. "You are asking me to betray Thorin's trust," she said, "I can't do that to him."

"His grandfather betrayed my trust," Thranduil spoke, "when he withheld the star gems from me. Look where his greed left him. I promise you, Elsa of Arendelle, that Thorin Oakenshield will not uphold his honor once he lays eyes on that treasure. Not that he ever will see that treasure, given his pride and stubbornness."

"Whatever quarrel you have with him, I will not be made a pawn in it," she said adamantly, "You have no right to hold those dwarves prisoner, no matter what petty conflict you may have with them."

"I have told you, Thorin Oakenshield is free to go," the Elvenking replied, "when he decides to. But he will not." He then looked at her very long and with a heaviness that bore into her. "You seem to have been associating with dwarves for far too long," he observed, "you've acquired their stubbornness."

Just then, a pair of armored guards burst into the room. "Your majesty," one of them said, "The dwarves! They've escaped! We don't know how, but they're gone!"

It all suddenly clicked in Elsa's mind; this was Bilbo's plan all along! She made a mental note to congratulate him later. Meanwhile, the look on Thranduil's face was priceless.

Smiling, Elsa said to him, "Well, your majesty, it looks like our negotiations are over. I'll just be going now."

And with that, she unleashed a furious blizzard into the room, the force of the wind knocking the guards and Thranduil off of their feet. She ran as hard as she could out of that chamber, using the blizzard as a shield as she went (and of course raising the necessary ice shield when arrows came flying her way. Truth be told, she didn't have much of an idea where she was going; all she could focus on was getting out, and getting out alive.

How long she ran, how hard she fought, how many elves and arrows she had to freeze in her path, she had no idea (how could one count in a rush like that?). How she got out…that was an even bigger question, but she managed to do it, exiting through a door and stepping into sunlight once again. It had all gone by so fast, and she hadn't bothered to memorize the way out…had it been some higher power guiding her steps?

However, she didn't have the time to dwell on such things; at the sound of clinking boots and Elvish shouting, she took off into the underbrush of the forest, raising a winter fog to cover her.


	12. Chapter 12: Welcome to Esgaroth

There had been many times during the quest when Bilbo later questioned the validity of his actions; deciding to get all the dwarves into barrels, and then cling on for dear life down a roaring, twisting river, all while not getting killed by orcs and elves, was one of them. It was a miracle that he hadn't drowned, and an even greater miracle that he and all of the dwarves had managed to get out alive.

There was a certain point in the river where the current slowed to a near halt and the shoreline was within paddling distance; after checking the opposite shore for orcs, everyone made their way to the riverbank, climbing out of the barrels with no end of appreciation (Bombur, it seemed, was most grateful, and in no way did Bilbo blame him, after seeing all the rolling around that he went through) and slogged their way to dry land to dry off as much as they could.

Kili had the most difficulty; as soon as he limped a good distance, he fell onto his feet, exposing an open wound on his leg where an orc arrow had struck. Bofur and Fili came to his aid.

Glad to have solid earth beneath his feet, Bilbo took off his overcoat and laid it on a large stone to dry, shivering with the cold that came with its removal…wait.

Where did he put it?

Dread rising up within the core of his being, he patted the pockets of his overcoat with increased desperation. Please, don't have fallen into the river, he thought…but then he remembered. He pressed his hands to his waistcoat, and felt metal in one of them. A sigh of relief passed his lips.

"Oi, Bilbo," Nori asked as he emptied a boot full of water, "Where's Elsa?"

Elsa. As much as he hated to admit it, he had forgotten all about her in the chaos that led to this place. How could he? "Oh, fool that I am," he stammered, "She's probably still back there!"

"How did you lose her?" Bofur questioned, "You told her your plan, right?"

"Yes," Bilbo explained, "Well, sort of; I just told her to stall for time. I just…sort of improvised the rest. Look, we've got to back and find her."

"We can't," said Thorin, "there's still an orc pack on our tail, and Durin's Day is nigh upon us. We have to get to Erebor."

"How? A lake lies between us and that mountain," Balin asked him, "And I doubt that we'll be able to use those barrels to get there in time."

"And that orc pack will run us down as sure as daylight," added Dwalin, "If we try to go around it, with no weapons to defend ourselves."

"Yes, but what about Elsa?" Bilbo questioned, "We can't just abandon her to the orcs!"

"Elsa went on this quest of her own free will," Thorin declared with an all too dreadful air of finality, "She knew the risks."

But then, they heard a voice shouting out from the top of the cliff on the other side of the river. They looked up, and any anxiety that had before festered in Bilbo's chest was washed away. He and the dwarves cheered at the sight of Elsa waving at them from the top of the cliff. Constructing an arch of ice, she made her way across the river and back into their company.

Bilbo stepped forward. "Elsa, I am so sorry for leaving you back there," he said, "I should have…"

"No no, it's alright," Elsa replied, "It was easy to find you; all I had to do was follow the trail of bodies." That earned a laugh from many of the dwarves.

"What about the orcs?" Fili asked, "How did you get past them?"

"I got them lost," she explained, "long enough for me to get ahead. But they'll catch up to us soon enough." She looked up for a brief instant, and her eyes widened in fear. Bilbo looked to see what she saw; it was a grim-faced man with long black hair, dressed in a worn leather coat, aiming a long arrow made of black metal right at them—or rather, right at Elsa.

Dwalin rose up, holding a stick, and charged right at the archer, only to find his weapon of choice thrown out of his hands by the archer's shot, while a knife that Kili held up to throw was also taken from his hands, all within a few seconds. The archer knocked another black arrow to his bow and re-aimed it at Elsa, saying, "Try anything else, witch, and you're dead."

Realizing the position they were in, everyone raised their hands in a signal of surrender. Bilbo noticed the air around them getting more and more frigid, and the ground becoming frostier and frostier. "Elsa," he whispered, "Calm down!" Fortunately, she managed to take some deep breaths, and the cold receded.

She then addressed the archer, "Please, we don't mean you any harm."

"Then tell me," the archer said, never taking his aim off of her, "What are you doing here?"

Balin stepped forward, though cautiously, "Excuse me," he said, "But um, you're from Laketown, if I'm not mistaken? That barge over there, it wouldn't be available for hire by any chance, would it?"

Thankfully, the archer lowered his bow off of them. "Why? What does it matter to you?" he asked.

"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains," Balin lied, "Seeking to visit distant relations in the Iron Hills."

"We need food, supplies, and weapons," Thorin added. "Can you help us?"

"Since when do merchants associate with witches?" the archer questioned.

"She is NOT a witch," Bilbo stated. He moved forward to defend her, but Elsa restrained him, shaking her head.

"The woman is simply a friend of ours from Bree," Balin told the archer, "You have nothing to fear from her."

"And what would you want from me?"

"Passage to Laketown, of course; we'd be willing to pay handsomely."

The archer seemed to consider the offer for a moment. He then deposited his arrow into the quiver, and then stated, "Help me get those barrels onto my boat, then we'll talk."

* * *

><p>Sometime later, they had succeeded in rolling the barrels over the rocks and onto an aged sailboat docked nearby. The whole procession had been done with little conversation, none of the company save Balin daring to say a word to the stone-faced man; through him, they learned that he had a small family consisting of a son and two daughters. It wasn't until the last barrel was rolled into upright position on the boat's deck that Bard spoke; "Simple merchants, you say? I know full well where these barrels come from," he said, indicated the places of damage on the barrels. "I don't know what business you had with the elves, but it looks like it didn't end well. Besides, no one enters Lake Town but by leave of the Master. All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm; he would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."<p>

Then Thorin replied, "I bet that he wouldn't."

"What makes you say that?"

"Just take us straight to him," the Dwarf King explained, "and you will see."

Bilbo and Elsa looked at each other, worry evident on both of their faces. What was Thorin thinking of doing? Balin glanced over at him with that same concern, but Thorin's expression seemed to alleviate his fears; he knew what he was doing.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, and Bard (Bilbo had asked his name earlier) steered the company through fog-laden waters and past the colossal ruins of what must have been an ancient city of some sorts, chunks of ice glancing off the side of the barge. Amidst the grumbling of the dwarves, Bilbo managed to find a seat next to Elsa; she seemed lost in thought, staring off into the grey mist.<p>

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, but something in her eyes said otherwise. There was a moment's pause before she spoke again; "Bilbo," she asked quietly, "You once asked me if I ever thought of home; if you had the chance just to see, even visit your home again, would you take it? Just to make sure everything is okay?"

Bilbo hadn't thought about this in a long while; most of his concern thus far had been the quest itself and…it. "Well," he mused, "right now…maybe, if only to make sure the Sackville-Bagginses haven't robbed me. Why do you ask?"

"Well," she started to explain, "When I left Arendelle, I thought I was keeping everyone safe from me. But lately I've been thinking, what if I was wrong? What if leaving Arendelle was a mistake, and I just made everything worse? What's worse is that I have no idea at all; maybe I'm wrong right now, and maybe my sister's handling the kingdom just fine, or maybe…"

"Wait; hold up a minute," Bilbo interrupted, "What do you mean? Your _sister _is handling a _kingdom_?" But then he realized what that meant.

Elsa, clearly seeing this, said to him, "Please don't bring it up to anyone else."

"Oh, of course," he agreed, "I understand. But why is this so important now?"

She then explained to him what Thranduil had said to her back in the Woodland Realm, of the Star Gems' power, and of his offer to her.

"But," Bilbo started, "What would that mean to Thorin? Going behind his back and stealing something like that?"

"I know, that's what I told Thranduil," she said, "But now…I just don't know. I left without ever thinking of the consequences of my actions. I abandoned everyone…I abandoned my sister…"

"Hey," Bilbo suggested, "How about we talk to Thorin about this when this is all over? Maybe he'll understand, and let you use them?"

Elsa gave a faint smile at the suggestion, but then it faded. "What if he doesn't?" she wondered.

Just then, the dwarves slowly rose to their feet, awe and emotion in their faces; rising above the fog in the distance, illuminated by the light of a setting sun, was the shape of a towering mountain.

"We're approaching the toll gate," Bard said, "They won't let you through so easily, Master Dwarf."

"All I need is to speak to the Master," Thorin replied.

"You'll wind up in chains before that happens," Bard said. "What do you have to say to him that will change his mind, hm? What makes you think you will be able to see him in the first place?"

"That is for me to know, and for you to find out."

Elsa, meanwhile, leaned in close to Bilbo and whispered, "I hope he knows what he's doing." Bilbo couldn't agree more.

* * *

><p>Lake Town certainly seemed to earn its name; it was a sprawling collection of wooden houses and other buildings literally set on the surface of the lake, supported by pillars going deep into the water itself. Waterways served as roads and boats as transports in this place.<p>

True to Bard's word, the welcoming committee, led by a pale man with slick hair and an oily voice named Alfrid, wasn't very generous when they arrived. "Now you've done it this time, Bard," Alfrid said, "Since when do you bring passengers with your shipments?"

"These people have business with the Master," Bard explained.

"The Master sees no one unless he allows it," Alfrid retorted.

Thorin stepped forward. "Let me speak to your Master," he asked, "it is of urgent business that I must speak with him."

"What's your name, and what business do you have with him?"

"Take me to the Master first," the Dwarf King demanded, "then I will talk."

"I'd do what he says," Bard advised, "It sounds like he's serious."

"I only answer to the Master," Alfrid said again, "And he will decide what to do with you." He then turned to the guards nearby and ordered, "Arrest them, on account of…trespassing!"

The guards did as they were told, taking the dwarves and clasping their hands in thick handcuffs; some, particularly Dwalin, were eager to fight back, but a quick look from Thorin had him complying along with the rest, to everyone's silent confusion. The guards escorted them through winding paths through the town, drawing the attention of every man, woman, and child that they passed by. Elsa could feel their prying, curious eyes; it brought back images of when she first left the palace…

Conceal, don't feel.

Eventually, they came to the steps of a towering mansion, probably where the Master himself lived; by this time, a huge crowd had gathered, curious to see what would become of the company, who had been forced to the front.

The Master then stepped out of the doorway; he looked to Elsa like a most repugnant human being, with stringy orange hair flayed over a wispy bald head, crooked teeth, and eyes that squinted at the group insidiously. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Who are these people and what are they doing here?"

Elsa suddenly had flashbacks to the Goblin Tunnels.

Alfrid stepped forward. "Pardon me, sir, but these dwarves insisted on seeing you personally."

"And you had them brought here instead of locking them away?"

"I was looking to get your approval on what to do with these…trespassers!" the lackey replied, "Their leader looks to be a downright insurgent, sire."

Dwalin could stand it no more. "Hold your tongue!" he barked, "You do not know of whom you speak! This," he gestured to Thorin, "is no common criminal! This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thrór!"

At this, Thorin stepped forward, and everyone's attention was right on him; excited whispers abounded in the crowd. "We are the Dwarves of Erebor," the Dwarf King declared, "And we have come to reclaim our homeland."

Was this it? Elsa wondered. Was this Thorin's plan, all along, to expose them all here and now? She looked over at Bard, and saw the surprise and rage upon his face.

Thorin went on; "I remember this town in the great days of old; fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake. This was the center of all trade in the north! I will see those days return; I would relight the great forges of the dwarves, and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

At this part of the speech, the crowd roared with approval. But then a new voice shouted out.

"Death!" Bard replied, stepping away from the crowd, "That is what you will bring upon us! Dragon fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all!"

Thorin seemed undaunted. "You can listen to this naysayer," he continued, "but I promise you this: if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"

Again, the crowd cheered and hollered at Thorin's words. But Elsa noticed the operative word _if, _and it filled her with dread.

Bard would have none of it. Shouting again for the crowd's attention, he stated, "Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a Mountain King, so driven by greed he could not see beyond his own desire!"

The Master then spoke up from atop the staircase. "Now now, we must not any of us be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget," he said, pointing straight at Bard, "that it was _Girion, _Lord of Dale, who failed to kill the beast!"

"It's true, sire!" Alfrid concurred, "We all know the story! Arrow after arrow, each one missing its mark…"

Humiliated, Bard stepped forward to Thorin, and said something to him; what it was, Elsa couldn't tell over the arguing of the people behind her.

Thorin then turned back to the Master. "I speak to the Master of the Men of the Lake," he said, "Will you see the days of glory return? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?"

The Master's eyes glanced upwards for a bit, lost in contemplation. Then, he turned to the guards, and said to them, "What are you waiting for? Release them, for they are welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King Under the Mountain!"

The crowd erupted into applause as the guards went to each member of the company and unlocked the handcuffs. Elsa, meanwhile, couldn't help but feel conflicted about the whole affair; in fact, there was a part of her that wished the Lake Master had said otherwise.


	13. Chapter 13: Benefits of Kingsfoil

**Author's Note: Spoilers ahead for anyone who hasn't seen _The Desolation of Smaug_; tread carefully.**

That night, the company was treated to a grand feast; although hastily-prepared, it was the finest meal that they had enjoyed since Rivendell. In the past, they had been treated as simple guests or prisoners; now, many of the dwarves reveled in being treated as heroes, drinking in both the praise and the Master's finest wine with great gusto. Songs rang through the court-hall in honor of the soon-to-be dragon slayers, and the merriment was heavily infectious to everyone…

Everyone except Elsa, that is. She stood outside in the cold winter night, gazing at the moon and listening to the sounds of celebration inside. She had been inside for a good long while, eating the food offered to her and listening to the songs, but after some time she felt compelled to leave, asking to be excused and departing silently in the cacophony.

Why had she left the celebration? Her reasons were many; for one, she had adapted to years of isolation, and being with the dwarves hadn't changed that. Another reason was that it had been a long time since she had attended a party, and had not quite become accustomed to being with so many people at once. But one reason stood out to her the most; that being Bard's words concerning what had happened so many years ago. The archer had spoken with such sincerity and desperation, showing that he was truly concerned for the safety of his fellow men…she recognized something of herself in him.

She wandered away from the hall, her path leading her through the twists and turns of Laketown, all alone. She could hear the sounds of families inside their homes laughing, playing, and telling stories by the fire…such music was strange to her. She wondered, had she enjoyed that once?

Her thoughts turned back to Bard and what he had said earlier. Once or twice, she had thought of the beast inside the mountain, but now, being a day away, it had become all too real. Here they were, preparing to destroy the monster and reclaim Erebor…but what if they failed? What if they were to unleash something terrible?

She found her way to the edge of town, where the buildings and bridges gave way to the edge of the lake. Across the water, she could see the mountain; towering and imposing all at once…would she dare step foot in there? Did she even have the right to?

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice asked.

Elsa turned in surprise to see Bard standing a ways down the gangplank, looking in the same direction as he did. "I've looked up at that mountain all my life," he reminisced, "knowing what was in there, what it was capable of…never did I think that the day would come when someone would have the nerve to venture in there."

Elsa felt shame weighing down her soul. "Look, Bard," she said, "I'm sorry we deceived you, earlier. You have to understand, he's just trying to bring things back to the way they were."

He turned to her, asking, "Tell me, what got you involved with him? How does a woman of magic become wrapped up in a dwarf's quest for gold?"

"I…I wanted to do some good in the world," she said, "Maybe if I helped Thorin reclaim the mountain…"

"You'd be a hero?"

At first, she didn't know how to respond to this. But then the words came to her. "It's better than being a monster. Believe me, I know."

Bard sighed, and was silent for a moment. He then replied, saying, "You carry a heavy burden upon your shoulders. I can see that, and I know a similar feeling. And believe it or not, I know that Oakenshield carries a burden as well; the sin of the fathers. I know that he desires to shed it, and to do better than before."

"Then why do you believe that he can't?" she asked. "At least he's trying to, rather than cower away in the dark…" She stopped midsentence, realizing the hypocrisy of her words.

"If there wasn't a curse upon the gold of Erebor," Bard answered, "Then maybe I would believe otherwise."

"What curse?"

"It is said that a sickness, a dragon-sickness, if you will, lies upon that gold," Bard explained, "It drove King Thror mad with greed. Who's to say that Thorin wouldn't succumb to the same?"

"I know him," she said, "He's better than that."

"Maybe he is. But I don't know that. All I know is that I have three children that rely on me, that need my protection." He then started to walk away from her, but not before saying, "If that dragon is alive, and he does come, at least I'll be prepared for him." Before she could ask how, he was gone.

She remained standing there, lost in thought. The hypocrisy of her words came back to haunt her; yes, Thorin was trying to reclaim a kingdom and restore his people, but what had she done? At the first moment of exposure, she had run from her kingdom, leaving it to fate's control. But hadn't she done so out of Arendelle's best interest? She was a walking disaster, a storm fraught with destruction…

But she was still a Queen, and Arendelle was still her kingdom.

Just then, she heard a noise coming from the direction where Bard had gone, like a scuffle was going on. Concerned, she went to investigate, and the sounds of fighting grew more prominent. She could hear Bard groaning and growling; was he in trouble?

Picking up speed, she ran to help him—but upon turning a corner, something struck her in the head, knocking her backwards and sending her down into a dizzying blackness…

* * *

><p>Consciousness slowly returned; a muddle of colors broke through the blackness, light shone in the darkness, and muffled sounds pierced through the silence. Slowly, the lights and colors arranged themselves into sensible forms and shapes; she found herself staring up at the ceiling, made up of wooden bars. Then the sounds became clearer; someone was groaning in great pain, and someone else was giving directions. Was she in some sort of hospice? It would make sense; the pain she felt on her forehead was numbed by icy cold, meaning someone had tended to her injury. Raising herself into upright position, the weight on her head fell into her lap, revealing itself to be a bag of ice. She looked around; she was apparently in a small house, with all sorts of things hanging from the ceiling and lining the walls. Peering around a corner, she could see three children, a boy with brown hair and two blonde girls, grabbing for pots and pans in the kitchen. Her eyes followed the younger of the two girls as she went around a large dinner table to the other side, where Fili, Bofur, Oin tended to a squirming, moaning person lying on a makeshift bed; who it was, she couldn't tell.<p>

"Come on, hold him down!" Oin grumbled, "I can't work like this! Where's that hot water?"

"Can't we sedate him in some way?' Fili asked.

"We've already got one person knocked out," Bofur said, "I don't think we need two unconscious folks on our hands…" He turned around briefly, and then turned around again at the sight of Elsa.

"Elsa!" he exclaimed, "Hey everyone, look who's awake at last!"

"What's going on?" she asked as she got up off of the bed and onto her feet, pressing her hand to her forehead, "Where are we? Where's everyone else?"

"Well, Thorin and the others went up to the mountain this morning," Bofur explained, "Guess they wanted to get a head's start before the last light hit."

This morning? She had been unconscious for a night and a day? "They just went and left you—us-behind?" she asked. She thought of the remaining dwarves and Bilbo, all going to face a dragon alone…

"Well, not exactly. I missed the boat, yes, but Oin and Fili here are taking care of Kili. We found you all conked out in the open as we were on our way here; what happened to you, last night?"

"I…I was talking to Bard and…" she started to explain. She felt a desperate tug on her skirt, and looked down to see the younger of the two girls looking up at her with earnest.

"Do you know where Da is?" she asked.

"Da? Who is…" she started to ask, but it was then that Elsa knew who's house she was in. "I'm not sure," she said, "But I'm sure he's fine."

"It was the spies, wasn't it?" the boy asked, "They've been watching our house for days; they must have caught Da when he…"

Suddenly there was a loud cry from the table. Elsa rushed over to find Kili lying there, writhing in deep agony, his face deathly pale.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked.

"What does it look like?" Fili said, "He's sick!"

"A wound of his has gotten infected," Oin explained, "I need some herbs to treat the injury, but at this point the best thing for him would be kingsfoil."

"Kingsfoil? What is that?" she asked.

"That's a weed," the older of the two girls answered, "We feed it to the pigs."

At that response, Bofur gave a look of pure disbelief. He then headed for the door—but not before telling Kili, "Stay there. I'll be right back."

Before Elsa could ask where he had gone, Oin put her to work with the other girls in searching the pantries for different herbs and spices to put in a poultice. But as time passed, Kili's condition only seemed to worsen; how much longer could he last?

A deep rumble in the earth caused the house to shudder, shaking dust and sand from the shelves and ceiling, and hushing everyone into a terrified pause. The boy looked towards out the window. "It's coming from the mountain!" he whispered.

The mountain…She thought of the dwarves and Bilbo, especially Bilbo. Why was it that fate decided she should here and not with them, where they needed her the most? What about Bilbo? He had told her he was the burglar; did that mean they had sent him in there all by himself?

What if they were failing? What of the three children who had allowed them in their house?

She turned to the boy. "You, take your sisters," she told him, "and leave us. Get to somewhere safe."

"We can't," he protested, "Not without Da. Where are we to run, anyway?"

She didn't know the answer, but she shook her doubts away; maybe they were handling the dragon just fine, and she was being paranoid? Was there a need to fear? With these thoughts calming her, she turned back to helping Kili.

As time passed, however, there were yet more quakes, and whatever mental placebos she had fed herself were slowly starting to wear off. Please, she prayed, don't let them get hurt…

There was a bumping sound that came from the outside. The elder girl ran outside to the balcony. "Da?" she called out, "Is that you, Da?"

Inside, the group heard thumping sounds coming in from above, as if something—many somethings—were walking on the roof…

Something landed on the balcony outside, uttering a hideous howl and the elder sister ran inside screaming and slamming the door shut—but it was kept open by an orc blade. The owner forced his way in, leering in with a fearsome snarl. Elsa recognized the garb the orc wore; it was similar to the kind that the followers of Azog had worn…

Instinctively, Elsa cast a freezing cloud of frost at the orc's face, blinding him and sending him back out the doorway, but then another orc threw open the front door, only to be repelled by Oin throwing several dishes at it. Three more orcs crashed in through the ceiling, and engaged everyone in battle; the girls ducked under the table for safety, while the dwarves did their best to fend off the fiends with whatever they could use, even their bare hands. Elsa, meanwhile, became more and more overwhelmed; having to maneuver around furniture and dodge the swinging blades aimed to kill, she had very little opportunity to do more than throw ice bolts, and even that wasn't doing much to protect her from the frighteningly determined orc bearing down on her.

Suddenly, the table was flipped onto its side, hitting Elsa in the side and causing her to stumble. She heard and felt the wind of metal swinging over her head as she fell onto her knees. Looking up, she watched the orc raise his blade, ready to strike down—but was thwarted when a fire-haired elven woman jabbed her dagger into his throat, black blood flowing onto her hand. She withdrew the blade out in an instant and the orc fell to the ground, drowning in its own blood. In that instant, Elsa recognized her as the same red-haired woman she had seen speaking with Thranduil back in the Woodland Realm. The Elf then set upon the other two orcs with unparalleled ferocity, taking them by surprise.

Through one of the holes in the roof, Legolas dropped in and joined the fight. Elsa rejoined as well, taking courage with the unexpected reinforcements. Caught up in the heat of battle, she whirled around and casted frost at whatever orc was unfortunate to come in her way, adrenaline fueling her actions.

And then, almost as soon as it was started, it was over. Gathering herself, Elsa looked around at the damage; the bodies of dead orcs lay strewn across and draped over damaged furniture, some missing limbs and heads. The two elves looked silently over their work, while the children stared in awe at the damage from behind the overturned table. "You killed them all…" the boy said in wonder.

"There are others," Legolas declared, as he headed towards the exit. "Tauriel, come."

Elsa looked over at her to see the she-elf standing over a heaving Kili, who had wound up on the floor during the battle, with Fili and Oin at her side. She seemed unsure of her actions, torn between the dwarf at her feet, and her superior.

Legolas repeated her name again, and went out the door, but she stayed behind.

Elsa went to Kili's side. Looking up at Tauriel, she said, "Go, it's alright, we can take care of him."

"No," Tauriel replied, "You can't; he's been poisoned by a Morgul blade…death will take him soon." Elsa could see confusion and fear in those formerly fearless eyes—and was that longing as well?

"Is there nothing we can do?" she asked.

Just then, Bofur stumbled into the room, holding a small bundle of green plants tipped with white flowers in his hand. "Sorry I'm late," he said, "I got distracted by an orc along the way—what in the blazes happened here?"

Tauriel saw the plant in his hand, and her eyes became alight with hope. "Athelas!" she whispered, and snatched the plant out of the hapless dwarf's hand. She then looked at the children. "Quick," she instructed them, "Get me some hot water", and to the dwarves, "Get him onto the table."

They all did as they were told; upon receiving a bowl of hot water, Tauriel doused the kingsfoil in it and ground it into a paste in her hands.

"Will it help?" Elsa asked.

"Hopefully it will," Tauriel answered.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means we're running on a huge gamble; it may or may not work, but the only way for it to be truly effective is if it were applied by the hand of one with the pure blood of a king in their veins."

The pure blood of a king…those words couldn't have applied more so to Elsa than they did now. But she felt fear chill her heart; she knew she had already revealed this secret of hers to Bilbo, but was it worth exposing to the other dwarves? But then she saw Kili lying upon the table, writhing in terrible pain…

She turned to Tauriel. "Give that to me," she said.

"What can you do?" the elf asked incredulously.

"Just tell me what to do," Elsa said, "and trust me."

Reluctantly, Tauriel handed her the paste. "Rub it directly onto the wound," she instructed her. Telling the dwarves to hold their agonized brother down, she exposed the wound on Kili's knee; the flesh around the injury had become blackened, while the wound itself leaked blood and some sort of ooze. Following Tauriel's instructions, Elsa applied the paste generously, massaging it directly into the flesh. Kili shouted out in pain at the cold; it was almost enough to make her recoil backwards. The two girls joined the dwarves in holding Kili down.

"Don't stop," Tauriel commanded, moving behind her. "Now, repeat after me." The elf then chanted words in her mother tongue; Elsa did her best to follow along, stumbling across some of the words, but after several repetitions, she soon got the handle of it. She shut her eyes, and focused on the rhythm of the words, translating it into the motion of her hands upon Kili's leg. She felt hypnotized by the motion of the foreign words upon her tongue, and she felt a power flowing from within her; not a power as she was used to, but a different, noble kind that grew stronger with each repetition. She hardly noticed that Tauriel had ceased to speak the words into her ear; she was lost in the chant, lost in the magic of the moment…

…She felt herself being pulled away, her senses returning to her. She looked around, and saw that everyone had gone silent; even Kili had calmed down significantly, now lying somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. The color had begun to return to his face.

Tauriel gazed at him, and then looked at Elsa gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered, "Thank you."

Elsa backed away, allowing Tauriel to wrap bandages around Kili's leg, while Oin looked on admirably. She moved to another part of the house, taking in deep breaths and urging herself to relax. She sat there in her silence for a long time, thinking over all that had happened; it was almost too much for her.

"Scuse me," a voice said quietly. Elsa looked down to see the younger of the two sisters looking up at her again. "Are you a princess?" the little girl asked.

"I was once…" Elsa smiled, "But that was a long time ago." She then looked over at Tauriel watching over Kili, and was shocked, and somewhat touched, to see their hands touching gently; last time she checked, dwarves and elves didn't mix.

A soft _fwoomph _sound caused the air to shudder.

Alerted to the sound, Elsa looked out the window. In the dark of the night sky, she saw a winged shape in the air; a bird of some sort? No, birds didn't fly on such huge, bat-like wings…

Her heart suddenly began to pound faster, and frost began to spread on the windowpane where her hand was. No…it couldn't be.

A voice roared into the night and shook the air; a harsh, guttural voice somewhere between man and beast, that seethed with rage and the desire for vengeance, saying,

"_Citizens of Lake Town, you have been found guilty of treason, and conspiring with thieves and assassins. Your punishment: death, by FIRE_!"

And then the next couple of houses burst into flame.

**Author's Note: I know that in the book they meant kings in the line of Numenor, Arnor, and Gondor; I have taken the liberty of generalizing it so that any one with pure royal blood could enhance the effectiveness of kingsfoil.**


	14. Chapter 14: Dragonfire

Outside, the fire exploded into a massive, burning inferno, engulfing all that came within its reach. Grabbing the little girl, Elsa leapt away from the window and onto the floor, the two of them landing on the headless body of a dead orc as fire and smoke billowed through the opening, setting the curtains and parts of the ceiling alight with their heat. The resulting flames began to spread quickly to the rest of the house, devouring away the wood that made up the building.

"Out! Everybody out!" Tauriel shouted.

Helping the child onto her feet, Elsa took her hand (lightly) and headed to the nearest exit, right behind Tauriel who led the way, and Kili and Bofur who carried Fili between them. Heading down the stairs, they entered not the cold of the night, but instead the searing heat of firelight. Elsa stared in horror at the scene around them; it had barely been a few minutes, but already it seemed that hell reigned supreme as the fire consumed the houses around them, bathing them in horrible red and yellow light and sending smoke high into the air, blackening the sky above them. The screams of humans and animals alike pierced the night, and she could see men people running in panic and terror; some of them were being burned alive, jumping into the icy water to put out the flames.

She turned to see that the others were climbing into a longboat, ready to flee the destruction—all except the boy, who was arguing with Óin.

"I can't" the boy protested, "I have to go find Da!"

"Don't be a fool, lad," the dwarf argued, "Wherever he is, there's nothing you can do!"

"You don't understand, he's the only one who can kill the beast!" the boy said, "He hid his last black arrow nearby; I have to find it and get it to him!"

"You don't even know where your father is!"

"Yes I do, and I'm going to save him!" Before Óin or anyone else could say anything to sway him, the boy took off, sprinting past Elsa and into the burning town.

There was another sound that she could hear, though faintly over the roar of the inferno; in another house, she could hear a child crying, calling out for her mother. Through the window of the burning house, she could see dark human shapes huddled together, trapped within their very own home by the ravenous fire…

Her own heart burned within her, and tears came to her eyes.

"Elsa!" Bofur called out from inside the boat, "Come on! What're you waiting for?"

It was a perfectly good question.

To the other's surprise, Elsa ran over to the other side and jumped off the deck; the water instantaneously turned to ice beneath her feet, allowing her to cross over effortlessly. The closer to the house she got, however, the heat increased tenfold, forcing her to raise her arms as a shield. Summoning the strength within her, she unleashed a blast of arctic wind and ice, relieving her of the baking heat before her and dousing the fire, allowing her to climb onto the deck and kick the door open. She was greeted again by baking heat; she greeted it with a blast of frost, extinguishing the flames within her path as she entered the house. Her eyes and throat stung at the heavy smoke, nearly blinding her; regardless, she cast her frost and snow around her, reducing the smog in her way. Eventually it cleared, and she could see a mother and her two small children huddled together, staring up at her in awe of her magic.

"Come on!" she cried, "Get out of here!" Her voice shook them out of their stupor, and they obeyed; they didn't speak a word to her as they followed her out the door and ran for the nearest boat, but gratitude showed itself in their gaze as they went.

There was a terrifying roar above in the sky; Elsa looked up to see a massive shadow glide over her, its wings sending a powerful gust of wind to fan the flames. It descended slightly, and a long scaly tail smashed through several houses, shattering them into pieces before the owner ascended back upwards, accompanied by the screaming and wailing of countless Lakemen.

But all Elsa could focus on were the human lives being extinguished around her, and she could not bear to let any more be lost, not on this night.

She ran like she hadn't run before through the town, braving the heat, pushing through and dodging herds of panicked men and women, and casting ice and frost everywhere she went, as much as was needed to fight the fire and save the dwellings from collapsing in on themselves. After some time she came up to a large house, smothered in fire and smoke, where the cries of a hundred people could be heard; to free them, she directed massive icy winds that smothered the flames with cold and snow. There was a moment of silence, but then the inhabitants began to pile out once they acknowledged the fact that death would not claim them. But Elsa was far from finished; she ran on to the neighboring houses, doing them a similar service.

As she went, a platoon of guards with bows and arrows marched past her, looking up towards the sky for some sign of the dragon in the smog; it came, and immediately they loosed several arrows at the creature. But the shadow passed on, continuing to spread destruction as if nothing happened. They ran on after it, shouting and cursing, and briefly looking at Elsa's work with no small amount of surprise.

Elsa herself moved on, continuing to spread ice and snow wherever she went. She found a section of the walkway where parts of it had been smashed or burned away, trapping a large family against a wall of fire. Without hesitation, Elsa raised a bridge of ice out of the water, allowing the family to escape. She moved on, and used a blizzard wind to destroy the flaming barrier…exposing the shape of the dragon coming straight toward her in the air. From its maw, a firestorm erupted; instinctively, Elsa shielded herself, and the waters of the lake moved in tandem, rising upward and freezing into a cocoon of ice all around her. The inferno came to meet it, and even within her shell, Elsa could feel the agonizing heat as it ate away at her wall; in response, she continued to push more ice against it, until the fire and smoke had passed. Even with her strengthening it, the ice had been severely reduced; it was a miracle that the dragon fire hadn't broken through. It had done a good job of incinerating everything else around her. Briefly she turned to see the shadow glide over the lake. Casting more and more ice, Elsa went on her way, giving thanks that her life had been spared then.

On and on she fought the fire, but the more flames she put out, it seemed there was plenty more to take their place. Sweat ran down her body in torrents, and her joints ached at the effort she put forth; was there no end to this war? Would the dragon's wrath never run out? In spite of these thoughts, she willed herself to keep moving.

Then, she got an idea; perhaps she needed to expand her horizons.

Finding the tallest house she could find, she rushed inside, dousing the flames in her way and leaping over and around furniture destroyed in the panic of whoever had been living here last. She climbed up the stairs and entered a dark attic where there stood only one window. Kicking it open, she crawled through and created a ladder of icicles jutting out from the side of the house, onto which she grabbed on and crawled up the side until she stood upon the very roof of the house.

Here, the whole panorama of a flaming town was put into her view, the burning glow of the flames cast against the billowing clouds of stinging smoke. Far below, people struggled to hide from the scorching heat, either jumping into the water or huddling into boats or any untouched corner. But the dragon itself was nowhere to be seen…

Gathering her courage, she flung wide blasts of icy winds and snow across the town. She saw, to her satisfaction, that her efforts were rewarded; the snow blanketed the fires in their path and greatly reduced their strength. She turned to the other side so as to spread more snow, and to her relief, she could see flotillas of laden boats moving over the water, away from the town and toward the shore. At least her work hadn't been for naught.

Elsa felt a hot wind brushing her from behind, and saw the faces of the men and women in the boats look up in terror. She turned, and too late she saw the massive form of the dragon come swooping towards her, its broad wings spread out and its clawed feet opened and stretched towards her. As the dragon came over, it clutched the two ends of the roof in its talons, and with a beat of its wings, Elsa found herself and the wood beneath her feet lifted high into the air. Reaching down and clinging on for dear life, she looked down and saw the blazing town shrinking and shrinking, until she could see the entirety of it as the wind roared in her ears. The dragon then began to fly away from the town, moving towards the center of the lake.

It was there that the dragon loosened his grip, and Elsa felt gravity take hold again. The water came towards her with increased speed, and she found herself flying off of her perch. It hit the surface first, throwing up white columns of water in a tremendous splash; with barely any thought as to why, Elsa threw out her hands and turned the spray into fresh powder, and the magic spread to the lake, turning it into solid ice and providing a surface for her and the new snow to land on. She rolled out of the snow, and the water immediately below her began to freeze more and more, until it spread across the lake.

Elsa struggled to catch her breath; her whole body felt weak, overwhelmed by the sensation of her experience. With much exertion, she managed to climb back onto her feet, and take a look around; here, the moon shone bright, allowing her to see everything around her clearly. Behind her, Laketown seemed far and away, but the glow of the fire consuming it lit up the sky and smoke above it. Before her, the mountain stood silent and imposing, careless, it seemed, as to what happened to those who dwelled in its shadow.

Then the perpetrator arrived; he glided in from above, and landed gracefully upon the solid ice, nevertheless causing the surface to shudder with his impact.

Elsa got at last a good full look at the enemy, and her heart beat faster and grew colder with fear and awe at the sight; he was unbelievably massive, yet he moved with uncanny litheness and grace upon powerful limbs, slowly waving a long, barbed tail back and forth. Unfolded, his wings, tipped with long sharp claws, cast a massive shadow across the ice, while the light from behind illuminated an almost dazzling and terrifying display of reds, golds, oranges and browns. Red and gold scales that glimmered like rubies in the cold moonlight covered his skin, and pieces of diamonds and jewels embedded and encrusted his underbelly. His horned head was perched upon a long, serpentine neck, teeth like curved swords lined his almost crocodilian jaws, and his eyes…those terrible, fearsome eyes…they literally glowed a burning yellow in the dark like bright lamps, as if they could penetrate into her very soul.

So this was Smaug the Terrible. What she had heard of him hardly matched what she saw of him; he was far more astonishing than what she had been led to believe.

"_At last_!" the dragon said in his fearsome voice, "_How long have I waited for a worthy opponent to face me in battle, and it comes in the form of a sorceress of winter itself! It will be a great pleasure to destroy you._"

The dragon moved forward. Elsa raised a huge wall of ice between her and the beast, giving her time to put some distance between her and him. She ran hard and fast, but he let loose a huge burst of flame, melting a hole in the wall. "_Impressive magic, indeed,_" he remarked, poking his head through the steam and crawling through the rest of the way, "_But you will have to come up with better tricks than that."_

In response, Elsa summoned legions of icicle spears, pointed towards Smaug. But he charged right through, the points failing to pierce his hide.

"_You are allied with those miserable dwarves, aren't you?_" Smaug demanded as he crawled through, "_I can smell it on you; you came with them to steal what is mine, along with their little thief in the shadows! And now you dare to impede judgment upon these pathetic Lakemen!_"

"They don't deserve this," she shouted, "Leave them alone!"

"_They would dare to conspire with those dwarves and steal my treasure,_" the dragon countered, "_And now they will pay the price. But first I must kill you, for coming to their aid with your magic._"

As the dragon came toward her, a flood of fire escaped his jaws; Elsa summoned a gust of icy wind, deflecting the flames away from her, and then a huge pillar of ice from below. She caused it to lean over above the dragon, and with a thought shattered it into pieces. The great chunks rained upon the dragon like an avalanche, pinning him to the ground. But even though he struggled underneath the weight, he seemed undeterred by this, his eyes still glowing with defiance and anger.

"_Do you truly believe this will hold me forever?_" he sneered.

"No," she answered. All she needed was time. "It doesn't have to be like this," she pleaded, "No one should have to die this night. Please, leave this town, leave this kingdom, and leave in peace."

_"And abandon the spoils of my conquest to thieves and robbers? I have guarded that treasure for far longer than you have drawn breath, and I will not give it up at the request of a foolish young human._"

He suddenly burst out of the ice, reached out and pinned her underneath his massive hands. She could feel the very heat radiating from his skin as it pressed against her body and coming very close to baking it.

The dragon arched his neck and looked down at her with those terrible yellow eyes. Cracks in his belly glowed red like lava within the crust of the earth, his jaws opened, and she could see the light of fire from within his gullet…but then he paused for a moment, a thought passing through those eyes.

"_Then again, perhaps I should_," he growled, "_Perhaps I should take my leave of this place, and go far, far, far away, and let Oakenshield take his kingdom and fulfil his quest. Then you can watch as that Arkenstone of his warps his mind, blackens his heart, and leads him to break whatever promises he has made. Then you can watch as the men of the Lake go to war with their so-called allies, spilling blood and breaking oaths, all in the name of prosperity and lucre, and I can feast on whatever is left alive of them."_

His words filled her with fear and despair. "You—you liar!" she cried out, "He wouldn't…"

"_Oh?_ _I think he would,_" he replied, reveling in her pain, _"I've seen the darkness growing within him, twisting and corrupting whatever good was in him before…much as I've seen it in his little burglar._"

"What are you talking about?"

"_Should I tell? Perhaps not…but perhaps you NEED to hear this_," the dragon mused, lowering his head so he could look her in the eye "_He fancies you, you know_," he hissed, "_I looked into his mind, and I could see you there. Oh yes, he thinks so dearly about you. Much more than you can imagine. But sadly, you are second in the Thief's priorities, for you see, he carries something with him. Something made of gold, but it gives him power… clearly it means far more to him than you do. Perhaps I can kill the rest and let the two of you live, so you can see it destroy him as well, so you can see if he still thinks you as much as he does his…precious._"

Elsa didn't want to believe him then, and she refused to…but then her thoughts turned back to that night in Beorn's house, when she had seen him awake in the night, playing with something she could not see…

_ "Or, even better, I can leave this land entirely, and establish a new domain elsewhere,_" Smaug suggested, "_So many places to choose from…but I do seem to recall one land in particular. I believe the people there would welcome some heat, seeing how their land is trapped in an Eternal Winter...of course you would know all about that, wouldn't you, your Highness?_"

No. It couldn't be, she thought. How could he know? "I—I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"_Don't bother denying it,_" the dragon hissed, "_I guessed your identity the moment I saw your powers, Queen Elsa. And I have seen your kingdom, your entire world myself._"

"How?"

Smaug bared his hooked teeth and quietly laughed, "_You have no idea how much the Star Gems can alleviate boredom between stretches of hibernation, my dear. It's pitiful, the state your kingdom is in; it seems that the moment you left, you left a curse upon your precious Arendelle, and left its people hungry and cold, with no one to lead them or to save them. How ironic; here you are trying to save one kingdom, while leaving your own to suffer and die! I could very well relieve them of the hell they are enduring; and who knows? I have never bothered to use the Silvan elf king's star gems as a portal, never believing such a purpose could be achieved, but now that you're here…perhaps I can use this opportunity to become the wealthiest dragon not just in Middle-Earth, but _everywhere."

What he had said about Arendelle stuck with Elsa the most. No matter how she wanted to think otherwise, she could not resist the truth anymore; not only had she abandoned her kingdom, but she had abandoned it to die at her own hand. "What have I done?" she whispered.

The dragon continued, "_But perhaps not. I rather like what I have going on for me here and now. Besides, if I were to leave, who would protect these people from their own avarice? Who would guard them from their own lusts? I am the only thing standing between them and war. I instill terror into their hearts and preserve the peace, thereby. I rule this land; I AM KING UNDER THE MOUNTAIN. And you have dared to disturb that peace. For that, you must be duly punished. You, the dwarves, and your dearest burglar, will all suffer my wrath!"_

In that moment, Elsa noticed something about the dragon's left chest; it was small, but from here, she could see a dark patch, as if a scale was missing right above his heart…

Somewhere in the back of her mind, an old familiar voice that she had heard long ago in her past whispered, _You are lucky that it wasn't her heart…the heart cannot be so easily changed…_

With that, Elsa realized that she still had a chance to live.

Firelight appeared in the dragon's maw, but Elsa was not about to die tonight. Filled with a fire of her own, she shouted and raised a multitude more ice spears from below the dragon, forcing him to lift into the air, and freeing her from his grasp.

She stood back up onto her feet, and the wind began to swirl around her, laden with snow.

"You are no king," she declared with force, "Out of all of us, YOU are the thief. And your reign of terror ends tonight."

The huge reptile roared and charged straight towards her, but she countered the attack by lifting up the ice below him, knocking him off of his feet. She then sent a wave of ice towards him, but he dodged the attack, and exhaled a firestorm from his maw. She raised a column of ice beneath her feet and lifted herself high into the air, escaping the fire, and raised several more for her to jump onto as the base of the original melted in the heat.

"_Fool!_" the dragon roared, "_Thinking you can defeat me! Entire armies have fallen before me_." He then began to scale the columns after her, climbing with incredible speed. But before he could snap her up, she jumped, and summoned a slide of snow to land on. As she sped, she twisted around and directed a blast of cold air and frost at Smaug, but all this did was slightly unbalance him. He leapt off of his perch and rammed the bottom of the slide, forcing Elsa to jump off onto the ice. In her hands, she created a snowball and made it bigger and bigger before launching it at the dragon's face, blinding him with snow. As he growled at the pain, she took the opportunity and ran straight towards him, sliding underneath him. She saw the patch in his chest, and took her chance; she cast pure ice magic, as much as she could in the brief span of time, straight into the heart before sliding out again.

Getting herself to a safe distance, Elsa watched as the dragon roared in terrible pain at the frigid cold in his chest. She wasn't entirely sure what would happen, but if all went right…

The dragon writhed around, hissing and screaming, and Elsa saw ice spreading from where she had hit her mark. It was working; whatever it was, it was working….

But then the dragon stood still, and began heaving in and out, in and out. A reddish colored glow appeared in cracks throughout his underbelly like magma within the earth, and to her shock, the ice began to melt from his heart, pouring out from the patch in great torrents of water. He turned his head towards her, and she saw fierce rage and hatred burning within his eyes, lighting them in a blinding yellow.

"_Clever girl_," he hissed, "_But that won't save you._"

Smaug then flapped his wings, blowing a huge gust of heated wind in her direction that sent her flying off of her feet and rolling onto the ice. He then let loose more fire, but Elsa used her powers to propel herself away as the flame ate away at the ice, and caused it to break into chunks and pieces and sending up clouds of steam. She found herself adrift on a large piece of ice, and watched as the dragon jumped and flew into the air, each beat of his wings lifting him higher and higher. Elsa took this opportunity to send a hurricane wind in his direction, trying to knock him off course, but the dragon only flapped harder and harder against the current. She could see, however, that he slowly grew more and more exhausted; she then sent forth a massive blast in his direction, striking him and sending the dragon back again.

But then she found herself becoming exhausted; she collapsed onto her knees, her whole body becoming weak and her breathing becoming laborious. In her state she looked up, and saw the dragon banking around and coming towards her, the yellow glow visible between his teeth. Her spirit willed it, but she could barely lift up her arm to defend herself.

"_You may be the Master of Winter_," Smaug roared, "_But I am Fire itself! And the fire will never stop burning until it has consumed all!_"

So this is how it all ends, she thought. I'm so sorry, Bilbo, Thorin…Anna. I've failed you all…

Smaug came closer and closer with every wing-beat. He let loose a terrible roar as he drew near, and Elsa braced herself for death by fire…

But it never came. Instead, she heard something whistle above her, and a thud, followed closely by the dragon letting out a sharp scream of pain and agony. She looked up, and saw him spasm in the air; she could see in his chest the shaft of a black arrow, buried deep within the flesh of the animal and letting out a fountain of blood.

Smaug rose up into the air in his death rattle, his glowing eyes wide at the shock and pain, and then faded forever, along with the red glow of his whole body. He then began to fall, and as she watched Elsa noticed a longboat floating in the water, laden with glinting gold, with a familiar red-headed man amongst its crew….directly in the path of the falling dragon.

Too late, the dragon's corpse fell on through, sending up huge waves and billowing clouds of steam, never to rise again.

It had all happened so quickly. Elsa struggled to turn to see who had fired the arrow, and saw in the distance the silhouette of a man and a boy standing atop a tall tower at the edge of the burning town, aiming a large windlass, set against the light of the moon. Suddenly, everything went dark, and she fell into unconsciousness…


	15. Chapter 15: The Mountainhall

It felt like eternity before Elsa arose from her slumber, but not in a good way; her dreams had been plagued with nightmares fraught with fire, ice, and death itself...but through it all, there had been the single, solitary sight of a terrible red eye made of fire that stared down at her, and a voice whispering in a harsh tongue over and over…but with the coming of dawn, these visions faded away, much to her relief.

Blinking her eyes open, she found herself lying against the trunk of a barren tree in the midst of a fog-laden forest, an old quilt wrapped around her and keeping her warm in the cold gray dawn. The smell of a lake water-drenched shore hung heavily in the air, but so did the bitter stench of smoke and burnt things, calling to mind the events of what had happened before. Another scent wafted through the air, this one belonging to food cooking over an open fire tended to by Bofur, Fili and Óin, just a few paces away from her. Looking on her left, she found Bard's two daughters huddled next to each other on her left, still in the thrall of dreams, and on her right there was Kili, looking healthy enough, but still rather exhausted.

Óin was the first to notice that Elsa was up; "Bless our souls," he laughed, "She's awake!" The other dwarves soon came to share in the quiet joy, and invited her over for some breakfast. She did so, initially reluctant to leave the warmth of her blanket, but she welcomed the soft heat of the fire as she sat on a crude log seat.

"We were so worried about you!" Fili said, "After that battle, we'd thought you'd never wake up!"

"I should probably make a note," Elsa remarked, "to stop falling unconscious before it gets ridiculous." That earned a laugh from the others.

Bofur handed her a dish, saying, "Here you are, your highness; tomatoes, sausages, and nice crispy bacon. We managed to save some just for you."

"Thank you—wait, what did you say?" she asked.

"…Tomatoes, sausages and bacon," the dwarf answered, somewhat confused, "It's not quite a meal fit for royalty, I know, but…"

At first, she wondered how it was that he came to know, but then she remembered what had happened the night before with the kingsfoil. Before Bofur could go on, she stopped him, saying, "Please, don't call me that. I'm not a queen, here." She then turned back to her food, eating it graciously after such a long time spent without sustenance and feeling strength return to her body. After some time, Bard's daughter's came to awaken as well, and joined the party in their meal while keeping their blankets wrapped around their bodies. After clearing her plate, Elsa stood up to get a better look at their surroundings; they were a little ways off from the shore of the lake, where bits and pieces of charred and broken wood were washed up by the waves. Further off in the distance, she could see Lake Town itself—or at least the smashed and scorched remains of it, smoke and flames still floating upwards into the heavens. She felt despair at the sight of the ruins, in spite of her efforts; couldn't she have done more? Couldn't she have summoned greater power and saved the town? But what could she do now? Lake Town was ashes now…

Removing her eyes from the sight, she gazed into the shore and the forest along it; here she saw the survivors a good distance away from them, mostly women and children but a good number of men as well, sitting around fires and wrapping themselves in whatever they could find to keep warm. People weaved their way through the crowd, offering food, blankets, and comfort to whoever was in need. Here, Elsa felt the most despair; yes, these people had survived, but now they were homeless…and she felt so much of the blame weigh down on her shoulders. These people had welcomed the company with praise and open arms, and they had unleashed hell upon them in return…_all in the pursuit of prosperity_. The dragon's words had burned themselves into her mind. But she felt some comfort in knowing that the same dragon had died and the danger had passed…and especially now that she could see the man responsible coming their way, alive and well, his son at his side.

The two daughters turned to see this as well, and ran to Bard with open arms, shouting, "Da!" He received them with all the love a father could give them, coupled with relief and gratitude that they had not been lost to the dragon fire. At least some good came out of this; Elsa could feel the adoration and caring that this family had for each other as they embraced…a caring that surely she had once felt before. How long ago had it been when she had hugged her own family like that?

It was a long time before the family decided to splinter, and with that, Elsa and the Bowman met again. She didn't what to say at first, but then the words stumbled out.

"Bard," she said, "I'm so sorry, I…"

"No," he interrupted, "I'm the one who should be sorry; sorry for calling you a witch. Sorry to judge your character based on your associations. I thank you for protecting my children, and for saving our lives."

"No," she responded, "Thank you, for saving _my_ life. By the way, I'm curious; what happened to you after we last spoke?"

"The Master of Lake Town and I haven't been on very good terms," the Bowman explained, "And I suppose he saw it convenient when Oakenshield arrived. I further believe he thought it further convenient if I were to disappear at the time. I was freed when the Master's boat caught on a line and tore open the cell I was in. It was…rather fortunate, I should say."

"But how did you know where to strike?" she further asked.

"Lord Girion was my ancestor," Bard replied, "Yes, he missed his mark, but our family always told tales of how he managed to strike one of the scales below Smaug's left wing. I was never too sure of it myself…but then a little bird confirmed it. Quite literally, as a matter of fact." He then looked towards the lake, and began to muse, "That story is why I trained to be an archer, if not the best of the archers. As a child, I always hoped that one day I'd be able to grow past the stigma of being the spawn of Girion, as they said, and maybe one day…"

She finished the sentence for him. "Become a hero?"

He quietly nodded.

"So, what now?" she asked, "What will become of Laketown?"

"We will rebuild it," he answered, "begin new lives, and move on from this, as we always have. And now that the dragon's gone, perhaps we can all breathe easy."

There was a noise coming from the crowd, the sound of heavy debate occurring amongst a strong concentration of people. Seeing this, Bard said, "Excuse me," and then started to walk back towards the rest of the townsmen, his son following close behind him. But then Elsa realized something; she hadn't noticed it at first, but there was one person missing. She ran to Bard, calling after him. "Wait," she said, "Last night, did you see a Wood Elf? She had red hair and carried a bow with her."

The Bowman seemed confused. "No," he said, "I haven't at all. But I will keep an eye out, if she's important to you." Elsa thanked him and allowed him to go on his way.

She then returned back to the dwarves, and asked them, "What happened to Tauriel? Wasn't she with you? Where did she go?"

The dwarves looked at each other nervously, chuffing and grumbling, until at last, Fili spoke.

"We don't know," he explained, "After you left and started frosting everything, we took off, figuring that's what you would've wanted. When we made land here, she suddenly ran back to Lake Town without a word; we haven't seen her since."

Elsa felt her gut wrench at what the blonde dwarf was implying. "Does Kili know about this?" she asked quietly.

"Know about what?" Kili asked, sitting upright.

Everyone turned, surprised to see him up. Fili went over to him and held him down, saying, "Take it easy, brother, you've still got a bit of healing up to do."

"No," Kili said, determination rising in his voice, "I want to know. Where's Tauriel?"

"Calm down, lad," Óin told him, "Everything's fine."

"No, we've got to find her!" he cried, fear rising in his voice.

"Come on, Kili," Bofur said, "I know she saved your life and everything, and for that we're grateful to her, but why is this so important to you?"

"Because I…" suddenly the young dwarf fell silent. Elsa, remembering what the dwarves had said about elves before, could tell that shame had caught his tongue at the moment. Then Kili spoke again; "…It's just that," he said, "she saved my life, and I should repay her. It's the honorable thing to do."

Based on what she had seen, she knew that wasn't entirely accurate.

"If there's anyone you should be thanking," Óin said, "it's Elsa. She's the one who got that kingsfoil to work. Repay her!"

Kili looked in her direction, somewhat embarrassed. "Oh, right, obviously," he said, "Forgive me, Miss Elsa…"

"That's _her majesty _to you!" Bofur barked.

"Enough!" Elsa said. She went over to where he lay, sat next to him, and said very quietly so that the others wouldn't hear, "Its okay. I understand."

It took a moment for the dwarf to catch on, but once he did, his eyes became very wide. "Really?" he said in astonishment.

But before she could go on any further, Bard's son returned, making it very clear that he had run as hard as his feet could carry him. Through heavy breaths of air, the boy gasped, "You have to get away from here! Now!"

"What's going on?" Fili asked.

"There was a meeting going on," the boy explained, "Alfrid's been riling people up, saying that Oakenshield let the dragon out on purpose. Da's dealing with it, but it looks like a mob's getting together and looking for you!"

The party members looked at each other, clearly worried about the situation. Elsa for one couldn't blame the Lake Men for their hard feelings, but at the same time she didn't want to deal with an angry mob or spill just men's blood.

"What are we supposed to do?" Bofur asked, "Where are we supposed to run?"

The answer was quite obvious to Elsa. "We go to the mountain," she declared as she stood up.

"What good will _that_ do for us?" Oin questioned, "We don't even know if Thorin and the others are still alive…"

"They are alive," she stated, "I know this for a fact. But he's right; we have to get moving."

Although it was clear to her that they didn't quite believe her, they did eventually get on their feet, Fili and Bofur helping Kili getting onto his feet, and everyone gathering what they could.

Moving through the trees, Bard's son led them to the lakeshore, where their boat sat in the water. "You take this," he said.

"No," Elsa refused, "They'll know you helped us. We appreciate the help, but we can't afford to put your or your family in anymore danger."

"But how will you get to the mountain without it?" the boy asked.

She had already considered this on the way over; it would have been easy for her to simply step on the ice and allow them to walk the rest of the way to Erebor, but that would've left a trail, and allowed their pursuers to chase them as well. To answer his question, Elsa turned to the water and conjured up a small boat and oars made of thick, sturdy ice, but with an elegant touch of her own making, of course.

"Oh, right," the boy said, "Forgot you could do that."

The dwarves immediately began to climb into the boat, and Elsa followed as well, but not before telling the boy, "Thank you so much for your help. Please pass my gratitude to your father."

"I will," he said. Once she had climbed in, he pushed the boat into the water with all his might. As they sailed out, Elsa sent a gust of wind to propel them further out, and they watched as the son of Bard shrank into the distance before running back into the woods.

* * *

><p>The lake was far larger than Elsa had initially expected; it was midday by the time they reached the middle of it, and the entirety of their voyage had been spent in silence, though with a few complaints of chilled bottoms every now and then. There still remained chunks of ice floating in the water, but she was surprised at how quickly it had broken apart; she could only assume that it had something to do with Smaug. All the while, the mountain continued to loom in the distance, growing larger and larger the nearer they approached it, but now it didn't seem as ominous as it had before, which was a relief to her.<p>

It was Óin who broke the solemn quietude, asking, "Look, I know you don't like to talk about it, Miss Elsa, but I have to speak my mind: why in the world would a Queen completely leave her own kingdom?"

Elsa's first instinct was to either change the subject or get defensive. But somewhere in her mind, a small familiar voice whispered to her, _Aren't you tired of shutting everyone out?_

She sighed, and acknowledged that for once in her life, she was.

"Because of this," she said, waving a cloud of snowflakes in her hand. "I've kept my powers a secret for all of my life, but then it came out and…I just wanted to keep everyone safe from me. It's a miracle I've been able to control it thus far."

"So you ran away?" said Óin.

"Yes. And I am a coward for it."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Bofur said, "I don't think a coward would go this far down the road, facing trolls, orcs, goblins, wargs, and spiders along the way, not to mention a dragon."

"Thank you," she said, "but it doesn't change the fact that I left my people behind."

"What about now?" Kili asked, "Do you think you'll ever go back?"

"…I don't know. I'm not even sure if that would be the best thing to do."

The dwarves smiled at her and gave her encouragement and best wishes, but Elsa was aware of how much they weren't aware. They didn't question at all how she was going to get home, and that she was not keen to give away, not now. It was in her mind to discuss that with Thorin, first; maybe she could include the Star Gems as part of her payment. But bigger questions laid on her mind; she remembered what the dragon had said, and at the time she had believed him, but now she had lingering doubts over the veracity of his words...and yet he had known her name and that of her kingdom….whatever. If what he had said was true or not, then surely she would be able to figure it out by looking through the Star Gems, just to make sure. And what if he was right? What if she really had left the kingdom locked in eternal winter? There was the bigger question; should she go back? But what good could she do? In spite of all her progress here in Middle-Earth, she had not as yet learned how to thaw her snow and ice, or even if that were possible…

Then the group noticed something that had not come across their ears for the first time in days since departing Mirkwood; the songs of birds and the flapping of wings. They looked up, and to their astonishment, they saw birds of an innumerable multitude of different kinds, from the robin to the gull, and from the goose to even a few carrion birds, all flying high above in flocks of hundreds, if not thousands. Elsa was confused for a moment; surely the good majority of the avians should have at least fled south for the winter?

"The portents are being fulfilled!" Óin cried, "The birds are returning to the mountain! The reign of Smaug is truly over!"

With this cacophony of bird calls overhead, the group continued to sail on over the lake.

At long last, they reached the other side of the lake, and came upon a barren wasteland; here, no greenery grew, save for the hardiest of weed and shrub, leaving the landscape gray and riddled with large rocks and boulders that jutted out of the ground, while snow drifts were laid about like white spots. Cold winter winds whipped and whistled across the land unhindered, and the place bore testament of a dragon's presence having been here once; she could see places where the earth was blackened by fire. The group hiked and climbed their way through the rough and jagged hills of this desolation; it would have depressed them, save for the fact of the birds flying high overhead.

As time went on, they eventually came across an outcrop looking over the sprawling ruin of what must have been a great city, the empty grey buildings like the bones of a once powerful creature brought low.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"Once it was the city of Dale," Óin answered, "And someday it will be so again."

This filled her with hope for the future. Further on, they could see the foot of the mountain, and there they could see the front gate itself; it must have been sealed once, but now it stood open, with piles of debris scattered all across the area surrounding it. This was rather fortunate; at least now they didn't have to scour the land for the secret entrance.

They went on, climbing down the hills, jumping over a dry riverbed, and walking past the ruins of the city; even after more than a hundred years, they still bore the marks of fire and destruction, bringing to mind what had happened to Lake Town. But still, Elsa knew that surely such madness and suffering could never happen again, and that brought her comfort.

Then at last, the small party came upon the stone-paved path leading towards the entrance. Even from such a far off distance, Elsa was awed by the size and might of the front gate in spite of the ruin and decay inflicted upon it; carved from the green rock of the very mountain itself, it was flanked by a pair of huge stone dwarves standing guard and brandishing their axes against any assailant (in spite of the fact that one of them had lost its head). The gate itself was already meant to be heavily guarded; up above, she could see numerous battlements at higher and higher levels, enough to probably give one a magnificent view of the surrounding valley. But whatever fortifications had been put into place, they clearly hadn't succeeded against the dragon; rubble and debris cluttered the area immediately in front, and scorch marks blackened the outer edges of the door—which had clearly been burst through, judging by the damage.

The party continued on, and for some reason found splashes and puddles of solid gold scattered across the earth here and there, leading them to wonder what in the world had happened. But such questions were put out of their mind almost immediately, for they saw at the very gate at least four of their brothers, Glóin, Bifur, Bombur, and Dori it appeared, laboring away at the task of piling stones on top of each other, as if they were building a wall.

It was a sight for sore eyes.

"I can't believe it," Bofur cried, "They're alive! They did it! They made it into the mountain!"

Overjoyed, the group came running and shouting towards the gate. Hearing their cries, the four other dwarves, looked over and, judging from the look of utter shock and surprise on their bearded faces, surely thought they were dreaming. But they realized what it was they were seeing, and likewise came running towards them as well, returning joy for joy, embrace for embrace, and blessing upon blessing. It proved to be infectious, and Elsa found herself laughing and crying along with them.

"You old dodger!" Glóin chuckled at his brother, "I thought for sure that I had lost you, and after all the trouble I went through looking after your deaf head…"

"Ah, save it for your son back home, brother," Óin shot back, "Here I was thinking you were roast the whole time!"

Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur, meanwhile, all came together in a big raucous cheer, with Bifur shouting out victory chants in Dwarvish.

"We were all so worried about you!" Dori said, shaking Elsa's hand, "We didn't know what had happened—oh! You must come and see the others, they're all inside! Wait 'till you all see the place, it's magnificent—well, it's been in better shape, but still!"

At that moment, Dwalin came tromping out of the entrance, grumbling "What in the world is all the noise about? You're supposed to…" but then he saw Elsa and the others, and any irritability in him was washed away. He too came running down to the group and clasped Fili and Kili in his tough arms, a great hearty laugh erupting from him. "What are you all waiting for?" he asked, "Let's get you inside! A celebration's to be had!"

He then led the group through the gate and into the front hall, but for a moment Fili, supporting Kili, stood at the entrance to Erebor, beaming.

"Look at that, Kili," Fili said, "We did it! We made it!"

"Wait 'till Mother hears about this!" Kili replied.

As she stepped through the entrance, her sense of awe and wonderment only increased with significant strength, not only because of the sheer size of the towering pillars that stretched impossibly high and held up massive tapestries, but also the evidence of destruction that had taken place; all over the place were splatters of gold, and on the floor were gold marks in the shape of dragon feet that trailed from a huge pool of gold towards the back, filling the hall with yellow light. At the base of the foremost of the pillars, Balin, Ori, and Nori were resting around a fire, but they too couldn't help but jump up and join the revelry and rejoicing once they saw the group.

They celebrated their reunion for some time, each member of the company sharing their own part of the story; from those who went before, Elsa learned that the dwarves had indeed found the secret entrance, and engaged Smaug in battle, before using molten gold in a failed attempt to drown the dragon ("It would have been nicely poetic," Balin remarked, "had everything worked out in the end"). But even then, Elsa noticed there was still someone missing. "Where's Bilbo?" she asked.

Her answer came running down the hall, overjoyed as much as the rest of them, perhaps even more so, and so was she. She moved to meet him…but she stopped in her tracks. Smaug's words echoed in her mind; now that she knew how he felt about her, what was she going to say? How was she to respond? And then there was the question of this 'precious'…

He came up to her, panting and smiling in his exuberance. "Elsa, I—I can't tell you how glad I am to see you all alive! We saw everything from the hill up there—we saw you, and it was, well, spectacular! I was so worried…the dragon said he'd…What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, it's alright, Bilbo," she said, kneeling down to his height, "We're fine…I'm fine. I'm glad to see you all too." She could feel the awkwardness rising; was there a way to change the subject? Then she noticed something glittering from under Bilbo's collar. "What's that?"

"Oh, this?" he asked. He then partially unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a garment of silvery mail underneath, embedded with small white gems. "Thorin gave this to me from the treasure hoard; he said it was called _mithril_ or something like that."

"It's beautiful," she observed. Suddenly she remembered what she had to do. "Where is he," she asked, "I have to speak with him."

Suddenly Bilbo went a little pale. "Um, I don't think that would be wise at the moment," he said.

"Why?"

"Well, because he's…" he started, but then looked up past her. Elsa noticed that the laughter from the dwarves had gone silent; turning around, she looked up, and saw Thorin himself descending on a staircase, dressed in a long robe of fine fur, but looking quite serious.

"Thorin," Ori piped, "The others are alive! And they're here!"

"I can see that," the Dwarf Prince said as he came down to meet them. There was for a moment a glimmer of pride and relief in his eyes, especially when he saw Fili and Kili. Coming up to them, he clasped them on the shoulders, saying, "Welcome, my sister's sons, to Erebor! At long last, we have reclaimed what is ours, and none shall dare take it from us, again!"

But almost as soon as Elsa saw that glimmer, it disappeared. "But the time for celebration is not yet. Bofur, Elsa, go help the others finish the barricade."

"Barricade? What for?" Bofur asked.

"I have spoken with the leader of the ravens, Roäc," Thorin said, "We should be expecting company soon, and until Dain arrives with his reinforcements, we have to be ready. Go, now!"

This all came very suddenly for Elsa; what enemy could Thorin possibly be expecting? And what was with this strange change of character? But whatever it was, surely it could wait; right now, she needed the Star Gems.

While the others scurried off to obey Thorin's commands, Elsa followed him, saying, "Thorin, can I talk to you for a second?"

"I need that barricade finished, and you of all people are best qualified to finish it," he said, hardly turning to look at her.

"But it's about the treasure…"

He suddenly whipped around, startling her. "NO ONE touches that treasure," he said in a loud, angry voice, "until the Arkenstone is found! Get moving, all of you!"

He left her standing there, scared and confused as to what had overcome him. Balin came over, and with some comforting words led her away, but nothing could stop the memories running in her mind, the ones concerning Thorin and the people who spoke of him. She remembered the Goblin King, Beorn, Thranduil, Bard, and Smaug, and the words they had spoken. She hadn't, or at least she refused to believe them, and she refused to believe it now, but she could see it now…was it true? It couldn't be...could it? She was afraid of the truth, for now the evidence was growing stronger.


	16. Chapter 16: The Standoff of Erebor

Building the barricade in and of itself around the front gate took about as much time as one would expect, if not longer; using abandoned mining tools found deep in the mountain, the dwarves hewed and carved the rock to further its strength, while Elsa added her own touch by casting ice upon the wall, potentially reinforcing it far more than simply stacking layer upon layer would've done. But all the while, Elsa questioned the purpose behind this effort; the obvious answer was maybe to protect against marauding orcs, and it was the one that she wanted to go along with. But Thorin hadn't said who it was that they were to be expecting nor why he had summoned reinforcements, and given what she had seen earlier, she suspected other, less benevolent motives.

At the moment, she didn't dare breathe a word to the other dwarves; she didn't feel sure about how well they would react if she revealed any inkling of doubt.

At long last, the end of the day was reached, and the front gate was fortified; as the sky above began to darken and the shadows cast by the mountain stretched to consume everything in their path, the company retreated into the vast halls, lighting torches and lamps to illuminate their way through the dark, cavernous interior. Finding any food that had managed to stay fresh and untouched by the dragon and/or other vermin for almost two hundred years seemed to out of the question, but they did manage to find small biscuits called _cram_, so the company was forced to rely on these and the rations that had been provided to them prior to setting off from Lake Town. Elsa was hardly fond of how tough and stale the biscuits were, let alone the taste, and worried over how long that would last them, but the other dwarves weren't quite as worried; the idea was that Dain and his army would bring plenty of rations along, and given that the Iron Hills weren't very far away, they didn't have too long to wait for said rations.

The company hardly saw Thorin at all; when Elsa asked where he was, Balin replied with a barely hidden melancholy that he was in the hall where Smaug had hoarded all the gold and treasure, along with Bilbo, who was, after all, the burglar. But it wasn't until late at night when the embers had cooled to a soft glow that the Dwarf King and the hobbit returned to the group, who had fallen fast asleep—save for Elsa, who only pretended to do so. She saw through half-closed eyes an unsatisfied look in Thorin's countenance, and the fear and anxiety in Bilbo's. And all the while, the dragon's words echoed in her mind…did it really take one jewel to spark such an obsession? But surely it hadn't been the thought of the Arkenstone alone…

Elsa awoke late into the cold dark of the night—not that it bothered her very much. The rest of the company was fast asleep and snoring away (perhaps that was what woke her up, though she had become somewhat accustomed to it), save for Thorin, who seemed to be missing. Either way, it suited her purposes; after grabbing a quick bite of _cram_ to eat, and lighting a torch she got up on her feet and silently slid away from the rest, determined to see what the lost kingdom of Erebor was like for herself.

Careful to leave a trail of frost and ice behind her, she wandered aimlessly through the massive halls, up and down stone stairways, and across bridges overhanging chasms that seemed to go down for miles upon miles, glittering with veins of gold and other metals running like rivers through the rock. The experience was a bittersweet one, because for every instance of beauty and majesty that she found, there was evidence of the destruction that Smaug had wrought upon the place in its heyday; the walls and pillars, etched with dwarven runes and emblems, had been rubbed smooth presumably because of the dragon's hide weathering them with its passage, or in the case of the latter been knocked down entirely; scorch marks blackened entire passages with soot, forcing her to use cold winds to clear the way; but worse of all, she stepped inside some of the chambers and found the remains of dwarf men, women, and children. It was clear that there death had not been merciful that day; some were mere skeletons, their bones scattered around and clinging to whatever it was they had last grasped as they gathered dust and cobwebs, while others, trapped in chambers where exits had been sealed off by fallen stone, still bore the faces of their owners, blackened and charred by ancient fire.

Yes, it had surely happened years before she had been even born, but it was still enough to make her feel uneasy inside. She wanted to get away from there so badly, and yet she felt as though her feet were fastened to the ground, her eyes fixed on the corpses of the ancients…

"Elsa?"

She turned in surprise to find Bilbo standing in the doorway, concern showing in his eyes. "What are you doing, here?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep," she said, and then added, "And this place, it's so huge…"

"Tell me about it," the hobbit replied, "Good luck finding anything in here without getting lost yourself! Let's get out of this room."

They did so, gratefully, and continued on their way. Following Elsa's frost trail, they walked together through the darkness for some time, the void of silence broken only when they each had to tell let each other know when there was a bad step coming their way. How long it was, they did not know, neither did they care. But Elsa's mind was wrapped up in her own thoughts; so many questions, so many problems…

It was Bilbo who finally broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied.

"Well, I don't mean to sound rude or anything," he started, "But considering that, well, you are a queen and everything where you come from, let's be honest here, which means you're set for life as is. What I'm trying to say is, what are you still hanging around here for? The Quest is over! You should be going back to your kingdom— I don't mean to sound rude or anything like that at all…"

"It's alright, Bilbo," she said, "And you're right. When you get down to it, I really don't need so much treasure, and I should be going home, now. But I can't."

"Why not?"

"The Star Gems, Bilbo," she answered, "I need them if I'm to return to Arendelle."

"Oh, yes, that's right," Bilbo said, "I'd almost forgotten all about that…it doesn't seem like Thorin's in much of a listening mood, though." He then gulped nervously, and confessed, "I'm worried about him, Elsa. He hasn't been the same since we stepped in here; I came in here looking for the Arkenstone, and instead I found Smaug. But when I ran back, Thorin was at the exit, and all he could do was ask about the stone. But what if he finds it? What'll happen then? I'm afraid of him now, Elsa, I'm afraid of what he'll do."

More so than ever before, the dragon's words kept hissing in her mind. "So am I," she confessed.

But surely what Smaug had said wasn't true, right? Surely he had to have been trying to manipulate her; seeing the darkness in someone had to be a load of trash.

"…Then again, maybe we're both being paranoid" she said, "Maybe when it's found, things will turn out better."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Bilbo agreed, though half-heartedly, "Anyway, we should be getting back pretty soon, before we're missed."

She agreed, and they were back up again on their feet, descending the staircase. But then Elsa paused in her footsteps; something else the dragon had said came to her mind now, something that caused even greater concern, something that for sure she had to prove to herself.

"Bilbo," she said, and he paused, having gone down the stairway some distance. "I've answered your question; would you answer mine?"

"Of course," he said, "anything you ask."

She hesitated to ask at first, resulting in a brief, almost certainly awkward pause. But surely he could trust her as much as she trusted him, she told herself. Maybe this would prove the dragon wrong after all.

She inhaled deeply, and then asked, very quietly, "What have you got in your pocket?"

At her words, Bilbo's eyes widened, as if he were an animal caught in a trap. His breaths started to come faster and faster, and his whole body stiffened. Beads of sweat started to erupt on his brow. One of his hands, trembling, started to reach into his coat…and plucked out something, which he held in his hand towards her. In his palm there sat a small acorn.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, "I picked it when we were at Beorn's; when I get back home, I'll plant it in my garden, and every time I look at it, I'll remember everything that's happened."

She smiled at the words. "That sounds lovely," she said.

He nodded and grinned as he turned back down the steps…but then Elsa remembered something.

That acorn certainly wasn't made of gold.

Her own heart sank within her chest, disbelief and despair overwhelming her.

"…Bilbo?" she whispered, "Why?"

Just then, there was the faint sound of a horn blast echoing through the mountain hall, drawing their attention away. But it was no orc horn, Elsa knew that much.

At the same time, they heard footsteps ascending the staircase towards them, accompanied by the sound of clinking metal and deep panting, followed by the arrival of Bofur. "What are you two doing here?" he asked, exhausted in more ways than one, "Everyone's gatherin' up at the front battlements!"

"What's happening?" Elsa asked.

"There are people," the dwarf answered, "hundreds of them camped out in Dale! You have to see it!"

They followed Bofur back to the front, and ascended the staircase that led to the battlements. Sure enough, as they stepped into the cold pre-dawn air and joined the other dwarves, Elsa could see the ruined city filled with the glow of hundreds of torches and fires. There was little natural light to be had, but from what little there was, she was able to discern human figures walking in and out of their line of sight.

Thorin eventually arrived onto the scene as well. "What's going on here?" he demanded, "What is this?"

"Lake Men, it looks like," Balin answered, "They must have arrived sometime when we were asleep."

"Refugees," Elsa clarified, "They've come for shelter."

"And no one has been here to stand watch!?" Thorin scowled, "We're lucky they haven't overrun us already and taken the treasure themselves."

"But the Lake Men," Bilbo stammered, "They aren't our enemies; not all of them, anyway. Besides, Thorin, you made a promise to them!"

But Thorin ignored the hobbit, and started barking out orders; "Kili, Glóin, and Bifur, you take the first watch. Kili, if they try anything funny, have your arrow ready." He then turned to Elsa, grabbed her arm, and drew her close. "And Elsa," he whispered, "If anything happens, I want you, most of all, to be ready. Do you understand?"

"But Thorin, I…" she started.

"That's an ORDER," he said, and walked back into the mountain, leaving her behind.

This can't be happening, she thought to herself. Everything is falling apart.

None of them noticed, but the clouds began to swirl above the mountain, sending snowflakes down below.

The light of cold winter dawn came. Something else came with it, though; when they rose up the next morning, the company saw long rows of Elven soldiers in bright gold armor along the walls of the abandoned city and with them their own king, astride upon a massive elk with broad antlers the length of a man. Thranduil sat upon his steed expectantly, and Elsa felt as though he were looking straight in her direction. The entire company was out to meet them this time, especially Thorin, who had taken the opportunity to dress more like a king than he had before, wearing robes of fine black fur, bearing a crown upon his head, and wielding a fearsome staff.

Just then, a man upon a white horse galloped out from the city, pausing to speak with Thranduil. Even from this distance, Elsa recognized that brown coat; Bard, it had to be.

With what seemed like the granting of permission from the Elven King, the man galloped forward, coming right up to the gate.

Thorin then called out, "Who are you, daring to come to the gates of Thorin, son of Thrain, the rightful King under the Mountain?"

"Hail, King Thorin," he called out, "Why barricade yourself in this way? Surely we are not enemies, and if all goes well, we of all people rejoice at the sight of you alive and well. Do you not recognize your old ferryman from before?"

It was indeed Bard, still dark and grim-faced as ever, and still in his brown coat. She moved to greet him, but she found Glóin of all people holding her back. "No," he whispered, "Now's not the time. Let Thorin handle this."

"Of course," Thorin replied, "Bard the Bowman, no?"

"Indeed," the archer replied, "Bard, the descendant and rightful heir of Girion, Lord of Dale at the time the dragon attacked this land, and by my hand was the dragon slain. I come in behalf of the people of Esgaroth and of the elves of Mirkwood, to discuss certain matters with you."

"What would you have to parley, with?" Thorin demanded.

"There is much treasure to be found within that mountain," Bard said, "Do you not remember the welcome my people gave unto you when you arrived and declared who you were? They fed you, clothed you, and armed you. Do you not remember the promise you made unto the people of Esgaroth that they would share in the wealth of Erebor? Well now we need that promise to be fulfilled more than ever; my people are lying on the shores of the lake, hungry, homeless, and cold, because of the dragon that _you _let loose upon us, though I cannot presume intentionally. Fulfill your promise, Thorin Oakenshield; that is all we ask."

Yes, Elsa thought. Surely this would awaken Thorin's sense of honor and justice; he was not one to trifle with promises.

"I made that promise to unarmed men in a state of peace," Thorin replied, "We will pay you that which is due, in its due time. But I will give nothing to armed brigands and mercenaries, especially those allied with our captors, the elves, who have nothing invested here!"

Just then, Thranduil himself rode forward upon his exotic steed, followed closely by another elf upon a white horse, whom Elsa recognized as Legolas.

"It need not be so harsh between us," the Elven King said, "You know what it is that I desire; simply return it, and all will be well with us."

"Yes," Thorin said, "And what blood was shed on your behalf, may I ask? What kind service did Thranduil give unto us dwarves when we were first driven out of the mountain and left to wander the earth hungry, helpless, and cold? What elven blood was shed in defense of their old allies?"

Even from the distance she was at, Elsa could see a fire burning deep within the Elf Prince, though he did not show it through his expression. He rode forward, despite a piercing glance from Thranduil, and from his side, he pulled out and held an elven bow blackened and charred in places by fire and lacking a string. "Do you not recognize this, Thorin Oakenshield? This belonged to the Captain of the Mirkwood Guard. It was found in the ashes of Esgaroth."

It took a moment, but Elsa remembered the last time that she had seen that bow. Her hand covered a gasp. "No…" she whispered. It couldn't be.

She looked to her left, and through the heads of the other dwarves she saw Kili staring in horror and anguish at the bow, tears flowing from his eyes.

Above them, the clouds began to roil, and icy winds began to whip the mountainside.

Legolas went on, anger rising in his voice, "She was the one who found your tracks in the forest. She was the one who wanted to save you from the spiders. She was the first to engage the orcs in battle during your little escape. She was the one who followed those orcs to Lake Town, and she was the one who saved your kinsmen from certain death. Is THAT not a just cause for recompense? At the very least, honor her memory and show some mercy. Surely you can respect the valor of such a warrior."

Thorin was quiet for a moment. But it was for just a moment, and then he said, "You expect me to shed a tear, to give away a mountain of gold no less, over the death of one she-elf?"

At these words, Kili turned to look at his uncle in utter horror and disbelief. "No," he whispered, "she was NOT…just one elf."

Ignoring him, Thorin spoke to Bard, saying, "Send away these elves back to their beloved woodlands, put away your weapons, and then we shall talk. Until then, I declare this mountain besieged!"

Elsa expected to see at least some degree of anger in the archer's expression, but all she saw was cold disappointment. "We will return on the morrow," Bard warned, "and for now we will give you time to rethink what you have said. I do not wish for us to be enemies, Thorin; do not make it so." And with that, the three warriors turned back to the ruined city.

"Well, that went well," Bofur remarked.

Ordering several of the dwarves to stand guard, Thorin and the others went back into the mountain. Balin followed close behind the Dwarf King, saying, "Thorin, please, I beg you to reconsider. Fifteen of us cannot stand against a whole army; even when Dain's army arrives, we will still be outnumbered."

"We don't need to fight them," Thorin said, "We just need to outlast them."

"We won't be able to do that anyway!" Balin argued. "Winter is upon us, and our rations won't last for long."

"You forget, Balin, that winter is our ally, now," Thorin replied. He then turned to look at Elsa knowingly. "A blizzard would be enough to soften their resolve, wouldn't it?"

Everything inside of Elsa screamed out in refusal against this idea of his; how could she turn her own powers on those whom she had saved just days before? But before she could protest, Thorin had already departed.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Kili spoke up, turning his attention to Oin, Fili, and Elsa. "You knew, didn't you?" he said, his voice cracking in grief, "You knew she was dead, and you didn't tell me?"

"No, we didn't, brother!" Fili said, "She just up and left; we never knew what happened up until now!"

But Kili didn't seem to listen; with a stone cold expression, he took off in the opposite direction, Fili following in his footsteps.

Eventually, the other dwarves shuffled along to follow Thorin, leaving only Elsa and Bilbo behind. They stood there with their backs to the cold, biting wind that seemed to pierce Elsa's skin and burrow into her soul.

"What have we done?" she whispered, "I should never have come here."

"It's alright, Elsa," Bilbo said, "We'll figure something out. I'm sure of it….if only we knew how."


	17. Chapter 17: Desperate Measures

Hardly any words were spoken within the halls of Erebor that night. Most of the dwarves were gathered around a small fire, looking glumly into the glow of the flames while processing measly bits of _cram _in their mouths. Two of the dwarves were not present; Thorin was, of course, in the treasure hall, while Bombur was out on the ice wall standing guard.

Elsa and Bilbo, meanwhile, sat a short distance away from the others on two sides of a pillar, as quiet as the night itself. She could see Kili across from them, stone-faced and silent but with eyes turned red with long, tearful hours. He hadn't spoken to anyone since earlier that day, and she didn't blame him at all.

"So," Ori asked, after a moment of hesitation, "does anyone think that Thorin's going to change his mind?"

"What do you think?" Dwalin growled bitterly, "He doesn't change his mind for no one."

"I thought we'd be rich by now," Nori complained, "I feel like I came all this way for nothing!"

"Don't know why he didn't ask anyone to help him look for the Arkenstone," Glóin grumbled, "I'm sure we would've found it by now."

"I'm not sure if even that would solve the problem," Balin said, "I should've seen this coming…no, of course I did. Why did I do nothing?"

"I could use a pint of ale right about now," Bofur sighed.

"So could we all," Dori mused.

Elsa, meanwhile, was wrapped up in her own thoughts, but they very closely mirrored the sentiments of the others. How could this have happened? Surely this was not how legends of dragon-slayers were supposed to end, with war stepping closer and closer with the passing of the hour…what she wouldn't give to be back at home.

Home…was it still around? She thought of what the dragon had said out on the lake; it was likely that the great reptile had been lying to her, but he had also confirmed what Thranduil had insisted…did that mean Arendelle had died long ago?

She thought of the visions of Anna she had encountered; did she dare try to summon the hallucination? But what use would that have been? They were only hallucinations after all…

There was only one way to find out, but it was locked in the treasure hall with Thorin, meaning she was stuck here, lost to suffocating and blinding ignorance while the hounds of war pulled on their chains…

No, she thought, anger welling up from within. This was not how her story would end.

She stood up, and quietly she started to walk away, hoping not to draw anyone's attention. It wasn't until she was a good twenty paces or so away that her hopes were dashed. "Elsa," Bilbo said, having caught up to her, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to talk to Thorin," she said quietly.

"I REALLY wouldn't try that," the hobbit urged.

"Bilbo, someone has to talk some sense into him," she explained, "and no one else is doing anything."

"Look, I know you want to see your sister again, but maybe now's not the best time to talk to him."

"Then when? When the mountainside is littered with carcasses of the innocents? This isn't about me, Bilbo; this is bigger than us."

The hobbit was quiet, her words sinking in. "Well, then," he said, "I guess someone has to try...he'll probably be more willing to listen to you." He then gave her directions to the treasure hall, and added before returning to the others, "Good luck."

Taking what he said in stride, Elsa felt some degree of confidence as she strode in the proper direction, but the further and further she went, she felt anxiety worming it's way in again.

Conceal, don't feel, she told herself over and over again, don't let it show.

Before she knew it, however, she found herself right at the entrance to the hall. Now her stomach churned with unbelievable ferocity. Maybe she had made a mistake; maybe she should just turn back and pretend this whole thing never happened...

No, she told herself, it's now or never. After inhaling deeply, and nervously gulping, she willed herself to take the necessary steps.

The first thing she saw once she entered elicited a soft gasp; all around her was a vast sea of golden coins, goblets, crowns, jewels, chests, effigies, shields, plates, and countless other valuables that, even in the dim light, shimmered and glistened like a night sky filled with stars…it was nigh overwhelming. She stared in awe for a few moments at the unimaginable wealth that lay before her. But then she started to wonder how it was that anyone could possibly find ONE jewel in this massive hoard. For that matter, how could one even possibly transport a fair share of this treasure without having to spend it on a lengthy caravan first? She also noticed that the place still retained the strong smell of dragon, evoking no small degree of dread within her.

She heard the hiss-like clinking and tingling of multiple coins striking coins to her left, and turned to see a figure kneeling and hunched over, digging and sifting through the treasure like a fox attempting to dig a rabbit out of its burrow.

"Thorin?" she said timidly.

The Dwarf King jerked his head up rapidly and stared at her with a wild look in his eyes. "You," he said, "What are you doing here?" He got up onto his feet and tromped through the gold towards her with the force of an infuriated bull. "I thought I said…"

Elsa struggled to maintain a calm composure as Thorin walked up to her, feeling intimidated nonetheless. "I know, I'm not supposed to touch the treasure until the Arkenstone is found," she finished for him, "This isn't about that."

He stopped only a few feet away from her, standing above her on a mound of gold. "Then what is this about?" he asked, his eyes boring deep into her.

You won't scare me, she said in her thoughts. She took a deep breath, and then declared, "You can't ask me to set a winter storm on the Lake Men or the Elves, Thorin."

"Why not?" he questioned, "It's within your power, no?"

"If I do, I won't be able to stop it," she explained, "Not for you, not for anyone." She then added, "You don't want me to lock this land in eternal winter. Believe me...I know."

Thorin turned away for a moment, seemingly in contemplation. Her spirits lifted then; had she managed to reach him? But then he said, "It's a risk we have to be willing to take."

Her eyes widened and her heart sank in utter disbelief. Had Thorin gone insane? "Are you even listening to yourself?" she said, "There are innocent people out there, Thorin, people that you promised to help!"

"I did not promise to give away my grandfather's possessions to a hoard of armed mercenaries allied with elves! They should have considered that before coming onto my doorstep."

"Thorin, this wealth should belong to everyone! You said you wanted to see an age of peace and prosperity, not of war and desolation! When will men, elves and dwarves coexist in tranquility? Enough of your pride and stubbornness! Put an end to bloodshed before it begins! Whatever quarrel you have with the elves, let it go!"

His back remained turned to her. But then he turned around, and she saw fire in his eyes.

"Why do you care so much about this?" he said, "It's because you want your share sooner, and I'm the only one standing in your way, isn't it?"

"What? No, I…" she stammered. Her heart grew cold with fear, and snowflakes started to whirl around the two of them.

"Well then, why don't you just take me out of the equation?" the Dwarf King ranted, "I'm the problem here, aren't I?"

The wind strengthened in speed, pushing the snow along.

"Thorin, please don't…"

"It would be so easy for you to strike me down and take as much gold as you want. What are you waiting for? Get it over with. Why don't you just kill me NOW?"

Unable to hold it in any longer, Elsa threw her arm and sent a bolt of ice across the hall, striking a pillar and causing spears of icicles to burst forth. The wind died down, and the snow settled across the gold and jewels, covering them in a fine layer. She stared at Thorin for what seemed like an eternity.

"Because I will not be the monster," she said, and then stormed out of the doorway.

She marched straight back to the front hall, still wrapped up in her utter frustration. Coming within the warmth of the fire, she noticed that Bombur was beside the fire, snoring away contently, while Bilbo was nowhere to be found. When she asked, she was informed that as soon as she had left, the hobbit had went and taken Bombur's place at the watch.

Lying back down at her place against the base of the pillar, she prayed for a miracle to happen, a prayer that lasted until sleep overtook her.

Three blasts of an elf horn stirred Elsa out of the blessed realm of sleep and into wakefulness, along with most of the others. While Fili ran to alert Thorin, the rest of them ran to the battlement, seeing once again a mixed company of elves and men carrying green and blue banners, with Bard, Legolas, and Thranduil at the head of them all. For some reason, Elsa noticed an air of confidence around the leaders of the two factions, as if they had something in store for them.

There was no small amount of anxiety or apathy amongst the dwarves, depending on who one asked. Balin mumbled, "It's only been a day, and already these formalities are becoming pointless. We might as well sit here forever and let them starve us out."

"I don't think so," Bilbo said, and Elsa observed something different about the hobbit this time; his eyes glimmered with anticipation, and he looked down at the men and elves expectantly. "Maybe things will turn out differently this time; who knows?"

"I doubt it," Elsa said. The events of the night before still hung in her head.

Eventually Thorin arrived, and after the customary hailing shouted to Bard, "I see you still haven't dismissed the elves. Yet you still think you can negotiate for peace and gold under these conditions. You can beg and plead all you like, but I tell you now that I still stand the same as I do yesterday."

"We did not come here to banter with words, Thorin Oakenshield," Bard replied, "This time we would like to offer up a trade."

Thorin looked at him incredulously, and then laughed. "I stand upon a mountain of gold and silver, worth more than anything you can scrounge up. What could you possibly have to offer in exchange?"

"Something you hold dear," Thranduil answered, "something worth more to you than all the treasure upon which you stand."

"Be done with your riddles," Thorin demanded, "What do you have to barter with, already?"

Bard motioned to one of his men, who ran forward and handed him something wrapped in a simple cloth.

"Would this be of interest to you?" the Bowman asked, and then then held the object aloft in his hand as he pulled away the cover.

All of the dwarves gasped and nearly leapt backward in shock at the sight of what Bard held in his hand; it was a small, round jewel that shone with its own light, reflecting all the colors at once in a dazzling display. It was unlike any sort of jewel that Elsa had ever seen in her life, and she marveled at the sight of it.

"…The Arkenstone!" Balin whispered.

Out of all of the dwarves, Thorin gazed upon it with the greatest amount of shock and awe, his eyes wider than Elsa had ever seen them, and his mouth agape. "…How did you find it?" he uttered.

"We are willing to return the Arkenstone," Bard went on, "If you will but…"

"HOW DID YOU FIND IT?" Thorin roared at the top of his voice. Everyone else around him shuddered and backed away, sensing the growing rage within their king, as did Elsa. She could sense that everything was about to go downhill very soon.

"How could you have found it," Thorin continued, "when it has been lost within the mountain for over a century?!"

"That is not important," Bard answered, "What's important is…"

"NO!" the Dwarf King shouted, "I demand to know! How did you find the Arkenstone? Tell me! TELL ME NOW!"

Bilbo suddenly pushed past the dwarves beside him. "They didn't find it!" he shouted.

Everyone on the battlement turned to look at him in surprise and confusion.

He seemed to struggle to force the rest of the sentence past his lips. "I did," he said, "and I gave it to them."

Everyone stared at him in quiet shock and awe. At first, Elsa wondered how he could have done it, but then realized that he must have somehow snuck out in the middle of the night.

"Bilbo…" Thorin whispered.

"I couldn't let this go on any longer," Bilbo explained to him, "It was the only way; you wouldn't listen to anyone otherwise."

Thorin just stared at him, while the rest shuffled behind him. But then he spoke again.

"You had it all along, didn't you?" he asked, "Yet you kept it hidden from me…"

"You don't understand, Thorin," Bilbo said, "The dragon said…"

"You TRAITOR!" the dwarf yelled, and unsheathed his sword. "I trusted you! We all trusted you! You were one of us!"

Elsa's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, her breathing fast, her heart pounding, and the wind whipping by with snow and ice.

"The Thorin Oakenshield who showed up on my doorstep," Bilbo said, with a surprising amount of boldness and conviction, "would never have gone back on his word, or suspected his own kin of treachery!"

But it was no use. Consumed by anger, Thorin charged forth, raised his sword, and roared as he swung it down…only for it to be halted in its path by a wall of ice.

In the few brief seconds that had passed, Elsa had managed to pull herself out of the crowd and jump between the two of them, raising ice to separate them just in time.

Heaving in and out, she stared at Thorin's distorted shape through the ice. "You…will NOT touch him!" she said.

Staring back at her, Thorin yanked his sword out of the ice, his eyes burning still with rage. "Get out," he commanded, "Both of you. NOW! Go back to your home. I never want to see your faces around here, again!" To Bilbo, he spat, "You can consider that mail shirt upon you as your payment, _burglar._ It's too good for you, anyway."

Hurt by his words, the Hobbit and the Snow Queen backed away from the Dwarf King. No words were spoken, but Elsa found a rope placed in her hands by Bifur and Bofur, who, along with the other dwarves, looked at her and Bilbo with the kind of sadness that comes with losing the dearest of friends. Very quickly, and with Bilbo clinging onto her, the two of them silently slid down the outside of the battlement and onto the ground below.

As they descended, she heard Thorin speak again; "This is the last time I make deals with wizards, shire-rats, and ice witches!"

Once they made contact, they started the long walk to Bard and Legolas' side in utter silence. Elsa looked up to see the dwarves, save Thorin who had vanished, stare down at them in grief and sadness, and in her heart she said a small farewell, promising to keep the memory of their friendship in her heart.

They came up to Bard, Thranduil, and Legolas at last; in his grim face, the Bowman looked upon them with such subtle sympathy, while Thranduil's countenance held only a semblance of smugness.

Elsa looked at Bard with tears in her eyes, saying, "You were right, Bard. I'm so sorry."

"Come," Bard said, "Let's go."

Elsa didn't bother figuring out the time before they arrived at Dale, but eventually they did, finding the ruins of the city packed with human refugees and elf soldiers, some taking refuge from the cold winter air inside the most intact of the dwellings while others resorted to using their own tents. Some of the men and most of the elves looked upon her with some suspicion, but it seemed that word had spread about what had happened at the Gate, so she wasn't met with hostility. They weaved and wound their way through the crowded streets and paths of the city; here, up close, they could see scorch marks blacken the walls, where the paint of ancient murals was already flaking away from the crumbling walls.

As they went their way up a flight of stairs, Bilbo suddenly stopped in his tracks. Noticing this, Elsa turned and asked what was wrong.

"Oh no," he said. His face suddenly flushed with grief, he burst out, "Elsa, I'm so sorry; this is my fault entirely…"

"You were only doing what you felt was right," Elsa assured him, "Don't be sorry for that,"

"No, Elsa, you don't understand!" he said, "The Star Gems, Elsa! They're still in there!"

With horror rising within her, she realized the meaning of his words and looked in the direction of the Lonely Mountain. Arendelle, its people, Anna…she had been so close to seeing them again…but now she had lost them forever. Now they were doomed to die without her.

That night, the refugees and the elf soldiers looked up in wonder as the snow hung still in the sky, the flakes spinning in the air. For Elsa, it was a night spent awash in tears of grief.


	18. Chapter 18 The Battle of Six Armies

Another day passed, and yet the situation remained the same as it had been before: dire. Dain's forces had yet to arrive, Thorin and the other dwarves continued to stay behind their fortifications, and still the Men and Elves attempted to negotiate for the treasure and for peace, but to no avail. It was as if each day was repeating itself. The soldiers in the camp seemed to sense this, and tensions rose as patience thinned; as he walked quietly through the camp dodging potential collisions and stepping over tripwires made of human limbs and fallen stones, Bilbo could hear murmurs expressing desires to either give up the effort and go home, or to outright attack the dwarves in their mountain hall and take the treasure right then and there.

It pained him to no end to think of his friends holed up in the mountain, awaiting certain death either by starvation or by the sword. And it was all for what, a jewel? He sighed at the thought; how he wished he could have turned back the clock and done things differently. Would it have been better if he had simply given the Arkenstone to Thorin when he had the chance? Would it have been better if he had turned back when he was invisible at the Misty Mountains? Would it have been better to simply throw the contract out the door and remain at Bag End? What had he come all this way for, anyway?

But he threw those pointless thoughts out of his mind; the time for such decisions had passed, and with the passing of the Arkenstone from his hands to Thranduil, any say or influence he had in such matters had ceased. Besides, he had other matters to attend to, hence his attempt to keep the soup spilling out of the bowls he carried in his hands.

The fickle light of the campfires seldom aided him as he made his way through the dark city ruins, but over the course of the past two days he had come to memorize certain pathways well enough to follow them even in the darkness of night. This served him well, as he made his way as speedily, and as carefully, as he could towards the western edge of the city, eventually arriving at an old crumbling gate where Elsa sat in the moonlight, her eyes gazing up towards the stars.

He was careful to make his presence known with a quick clearing of his throat. He then quietly sat down next to her, and handed her one of the bowls. "I tried to make sure I got it to you hot," he explained, "Sorry if it's a little cold."

She took it softly and whispered her thanks, but she didn't even lift a spoonful to taste it.

Bilbo was aware of what sort of pain she was in, and oh, how he longed to be able to say some words of comfort to alleviate it, but even here he felt powerless. He knew nothing of ruling a kingdom, so what sort of advice could he give to someone who abandoned theirs? He was an only child, so what could he say to someone who had lost her sibling? It was relatively simple for him to return to Bag End, especially now, but what optimism could he offer to someone who could never return to her true home? Was there even a silver lining to be found?

He hated how powerless he felt now. It seemed the only source of strength he had now was what he had got in his pocket...and even that was a power he felt he hardly deserved.

He swirled the soup he had in his own bowl for a bit, and then absentmindedly looked up for a bit. He noticed a small snowman sitting upon a stone a short distance away, even though there was no snow to be found around it.

"Did you make that?" he asked Elsa.

She nodded. "It's just like the one my sister and I built as kids," she explained, "We were so close back then…"

Bilbo nodded. "He looks a little bit lonely," he observed, "Maybe he could use a friend?"

"Maybe," she replied, but did nothing to remedy the situation.

A pause arose between them, creating an awkward moment. Now, Bilbo desperately fished around in his mind for something to say to break it. Then, really quite randomly, he said, "So, I guess it's back to square one, right? Just get back to whatever we were doing before?"

She sighed, "I guess so."

"I suppose it will be like nothing's ever changed" he mused. In his thoughts, he then wondered if anyone even knew that he was gone, given how long he had been away.

"Yes," Elsa started to say, but then said, "No it won't, be."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Bilbo, think about everything we've been through," she explained, "Fighting monsters, saving each other's skins, getting to know each other…you don't walk away from things like that. They leave a mark in you so deep that you can never clean off. We may go back to where we were, but we won't be the same. We've changed, and we won't change back."

Her words were almost exactly the same as the ones Gandalf used to try and persuade Bilbo to come on the quest so long ago. It was uncanny, to say the least.

"And now I know I've changed," Elsa went on.

"How?"

"I used to be content living by myself, thinking that I wouldn't hurt anyone," she admitted, "But now…Bilbo, I can't go back to that. I can't go back to being so alone…"

A crazy thought suddenly sprang back into Bilbo's mind at the sound of her words. Did he dare ask again? He had to take a chance, but how to put it? He couldn't just straight up ask; he had to use some degree of tact.

"Well, um," he stuttered, "Come to think of it, it does get somewhat insufferably quiet at Bag End. I guess I don't invite people over for dinner very often, or for very long…I've got a perfectly good guestroom, and plenty of chairs, it would be perfectly feasible to have someone over for an extended period of time…some adjustment would be necessary, of course, but…"

Before he could go on any further, Elsa stopped him. "Are you asking me the same thing you asked me back in the Misty Mountains?" she asked.

He remembered that he had, and nodded sheepishly, bracing himself for the repercussion.

She smiled, and whispered, "I'd like that."

He had never felt happier in his life before.

But then, her attention was drawn elsewhere, and curiosity showed itself in her expression. "Wait, what is that?" she asked. After a moment, Bilbo could hear it as well and recognized it as the sound of hooves beating the earth afar off, and the whinnying of a horse. They both looked in the direction where it had come from, and saw a dark shape galloping over the mountain ridge toward them. Closer and closer it came with greater speed, until at last it came upon them and stopped a short distance; it was a shaggy brown horse that Bilbo recognized from before, but nowhere near as much as he did its rider.

"Gandalf! It's you!" the hobbit cried.

Indeed it was; upon calming the steed, the wizard looked down and smiled at the two of them with enormous relief. "Elsa! Bilbo!" he said, "Am I glad to see you two!..."

And then to their shock, he slumped over and fell off of the horse with a groan.

Fortunately Elsa and Bilbo managed to run forward and catch his unconscious form in time, dropping their soup bowls in the process. Pulling the rest of the wizard off of the horse, they could now more fully see Gandalf's face in the moonlight; it was covered in cuts and bruises, and was very gaunt, more so than usual.

"He needs a healer," Elsa said, "come on!" Together, they pulled Gandalf through the gate, calling out for someone, anyone, to offer their help.

Neither of them noticed that the snowman had disappeared.

To their great fortune, the two of them found help from the elves, who almost immediately took the wizard into one of their tents and had the finest healers and apothecaries' available attending to him. However, it was still a long time before they were informed of his condition.

"He has sustained serious injuries," one of the nurses, a young she-elf told them, "but not just of an earthly sort; clearly he has battled with someone wielding powerful dark magic."

"Dark magic..." Elsa mused. Then she remembered words spoken at the House of Beorn of a shadow, and realized, "That must have happened at Dol Guldur!"

"Dol Guldur?" the nurse questioned, "That is hundreds of miles to the south…and to think that he rode all the way here…truly, _Mithrandir _is a marvelous _Istar._"

"Will he be alright?" Bilbo asked.

"It will take some time, perhaps a day or so," the elf explained, "but yes, he will recover."

"A day? Can't you heal him faster?" Elsa asked, desperation growing in her voice, "We need him. He's the only one whom Thorin will listen to, the only one who can stop this war before it begins!"

"We cannot rush these things, but we will do the best that we can," the nurse assured them, "Just be patient, please."

Apologizing and giving their gratitude, the two companions then departed, grabbing a pair of spare blankets and taking their seats on a chunk of rubble to patiently wait for the time when the wizard would awake.

The morning light of dawn arrived and found the two of them fast asleep where they sat, having waited all night. Elsa was the first to be stirred; for a moment, she was confused as to where she was and why she was there, but then she remembered. Had Gandalf recovered? She silently cursed herself for having fallen to dormancy's allure.

Then she noticed all chaos going on around her; soldiers both human and elven were rushing to don their armor and grab their weapons, while officers shouted orders all around, the most prominent being to gather at the entrance to Erebor. She managed to catch the attention of one soldier and asked, "What's going on?"

"A dwarf army's been spotted marching towards the mountain," he answered before running along, "I think someone said there was about five hundred of them; everyone's being called to the front."

She watched as the soldier ran off, paralyzed by the news; the reinforcements had come, and now hell was at the door.

After she had awoken Bilbo and alerted him to the situation, they both ran towards the gate facing the Mountain entrance, and there they saw the armies of both the men and the elves amassed together, with Bard and even Thranduil himself, dressed in streamlined battle armor, at the head with Legolas at his side. Over a ridge to the west there indeed marched an army of dwarves in iron grey armor, wielding axes, hammers, and carrying thick shields in anticipation of bloodshed, the sound of their footsteps resounding across the land. At their head was perhaps the most brutal-appearing dwarf that Elsa had seen yet, sporting a helmet crowned with a Mohawk of crimson feathers, wielding a double-headed battle axe, and sitting astride a massive black boar, itself clad in armor and sporting razor-sharp tusks. This had to be the Dain that Thorin spoke of.

Eventually the dwarf warriors traversed the ridge and marched towards the gate to defend it, but halted when a legion of men and elves came to meet them. Elsa and Bilbo, meanwhile, moved to a place close to see what would happen, yet remain out of the line of fire; there was no way that she desired to be involved in this. Inside, Elsa continued to pray for a miracle to happen, and yet she doubted one would arrive. Not in time, anyway.

"Good morning!" Dain shouted out, "I see we're in a bit of a crowd, so if you'd just accept my proposition….to SHOVE OFF!"

Thorin and the rest of his company soon appeared on the wall; Thorin himself wore freshly polished armor upon his person. The dwarf king greeted his ally, saying, "Hail, cousin! It has been a long time!"

"Aye, laddie," Dain shouted back, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, cousin! But let's put formalities aside, along with these sons of weed rats!"

A platoon of men and elves marched forth, carrying banners of white with them. Thranduil himself was at the lead, and he amongst them spoke first; "I, Thranduil, King of Mirkwood," he shouted to the Dwarf Lords, "and Bard, Lord of Girion, we beseech that you lay aside your weapons of war and depart in peace, and we will gladly exchange the Arkenstone. Besides, you are clearly outnumbered."

"You don't frighten us, Elvish pig-dogs! Go and boil your bottoms!" Dain returned, accompanied by a loud cheer from his followers. He continued, saying, "In my ranks are only the most skilled and experienced warriors! You are clearly outmatched!"

Bard himself came forward, saying, "Aye, you may be formidable in the mines, but I'd like to see how well you would fight in the open!"

"So, you desire war after all?" Thorin questioned, "After all that talk of diplomacy and peace?"

"I do not desire it at all," Bard answered, "But you have pushed this to the edge."

"We will give you one last chance," Thranduil said, "to withdraw these forces and exchange the treasure."

"And I give Bard once last chance," Thorin replied, "as I have done before, to dismiss you elves back to your forest."

"And dishonor the good that they have done?" the Bowman said, "I think not."

"Then so be it," Thorin concluded, and drew out his sword. He shouted a command in Dwarvish to the others, and they (reluctantly) showed forth their weapons. Thranduil and Bard then returned to the safety of their forces, while Dain began to marshal his soldiers.

From the safety of where they stood, Elsa and Bilbo watched helplessly as war began to show its ugly face. There was nothing more that Elsa wanted to do than stop this from happening, but what could she do? What power had she to turn their hearts from anger and hate, what could her powers of ice and snow do other than complicate things further? There was no side she could take without angering another, no move that she could make without it turning against her…never before had she felt so powerless.

Far from them, the dwarves of the Iron Hills began to charge forward at the sound of battle horns and war cries. On the opposite side of the field, elven archers raised their bows into the air, ready to let loose a barrage of arrows upon their foes, while men and elves in the front lines drew their swords.

Elsa fell onto her knees, her heart sunk with despair. This is it, she said to herself. It's all over…

"STOP!" a voice shouted out, thundering across the battlefield.

She looked up, and to her and Bilbo's astonishment, saw Gandalf standing in the center, raising his arms and staff high into the air defiantly. When and how fast he had gotten there, there was no way to tell.

"Cease this nonsense at once!" the wizard commanded, "Put away your weapons, all of you! I would speak with your commanders!"

Surprisingly, the soldiers in each army put away their weapons, while Thranduil, Bard, and Dain came forth.

"Gandalf! It's about time you showed up!" Thorin shouted from atop the wall, "At least now you can help…"

"Thorin Oakenshield, what is the meaning of this?" the wizard said angrily to him, "Is this what you had in mind when planning to take back Erebor? To become a tyrant in the place of Smaug?"

"Lay the blame on your burglar and your ice witch," Thorin retorted, "Along with these elves."

Gandalf groaned wearily, "You fool! How can you be biting at the throats of your allies?"

"These thieves and liars are NOT my allies."

"Nor are they your enemies! What a dilemma you have put yourself in, choosing to lash out against those who would assist you when the true evil comes thirsting for your blood!"

"What are you talking about?" Thorin demanded, "What evil do you speak of?" This was a fairly legitimate question, as many heads in all three armies were shaking in confusion.

Then, there was a soft sound that could be heard humming through the air. Many ears in the armies of men, elves, and dwarves picked up on it and turned to its direction, as did Elsa and Bilbo. The two of them ran over to the other side and peered towards the horizon. Slowly the sound became louder and more audible, and eventually they recognized it for what it was; a battle horn, but not of elves, dwarves, or men, as well as the thrumming of marching feet. Their hearts became chilled as they saw what lay before them in the distance; growing larger and larger and coming forth with great speed was a massive army of orcs and wargs. They were different than what they had seen before, for they were clad in armor and wielded weapons of forged steel. Among their number were a good number of trolls, some bearing armor with fearsome blades and others carrying entire trebuchets upon their very backs. High above them, the sky was darkened by a swarm of enormous bats, shading the trolls and goblins below from the sun in a massive cloud that reverberated with their shrieks.

"There is the true enemy," Gandalf declared, "They have come from Dol Guldur and Gundabad, and are led by Bolg, son of Azog, who has come thirsting for your blood. Do not think that they come alone to claim the gold or revenge alone; they will not stop until, man, elf, and dwarf alike are wiped out from this part of the earth…unless they fight back to the bitter end."

The leaders of the armies looked at each other with worry evident in their eyes.

"Of course," Thranduil said dejectedly, "I knew this would happen…I should have done more to prevent it."

"There's no time to lose then," Bard declared, then returned to his forces, shouting a set of commands to his men. After a moment of deliberation, Thranduil turned around as well, leaving Gandalf, Thorin, Dain, and their forces. Gandalf looked up at Thorin expectantly, but all the Dwarf King could do was sit there, paralyzed with fear.

Elsa, meanwhile, could not sit by any longer. With Bilbo following close behind her, she ran towards a place where she could get a better view of the enemy, who seemed to wash over the hills and plains like a relentless flood; up above, the sun began to darken as the bat swarm drew nigh as well. From here, she could tell that they were far outnumbered by the foul host; looking behind her, she watched as the men and elves struggled to realign themselves to meet the orcs, while the dwarves of Dain's army almost immediately arranged themselves into position.

Some of the trolls halted and leaned over upon all fours. Several stones were launched from their catapults at their foe, crushing soldiers at once.

"There's not enough time," she observed, "They'll be upon us before we're ready!"

"Elsa, it's up to you," Bilbo stated, "There's got to be some way you can slow them down, maybe like a blizzard or something!"

"That won't help," Elsa explained, "I wouldn't be able to control it."

"There's got to be some other way!"

"I'm trying to think of something," she said, "Just give me a moment!" She racked her brain trying to think of something, anything, to slow the orcs down, but no solution she could think of held very much water. But Bilbo was right, there had to be a way, any way…

Providence seemed to be on their side on that day, for it was at that moment that she noticed something wandering aimlessly along the outer walls of the city ruins, unaware of the fact that a war was about to commence. At the sight of it, Elsa couldn't believe what it was that she saw.

"Olaf?" she whispered.

"Who?" Bilbo asked, turning to see what it was, and gasped in surprise at the sight. "Isn't that…the snowman that you made last night?"

"Yes," Elsa answered, "and he's _alive_!" She looked down at her hands, marveling at what she now knew them to be capable of them.

Suddenly, she had it. She had a solution.

To Bilbo's surprise, she ran towards the armies of men and elves, shouting for everyone to move out of her way as she made her way to the barely forming front lines. Some tried to halt her, claiming the battlefield was no place for a woman, but to no avail; she would not be held back, not now that she had some use.

Arriving at the front, she looked towards the advancing army defiantly, raised her hands, and shot forth several bolts of ice that split into more and more bolts and then landed in the ground a good distance away. To the astonishment of the soldiers behind her, snow began to whirl around and accumulate in each spot where the ice and frost had hit, and from there began to take form, eventually becoming huge, hulking giants composed of snow wielding swords and shields of ice. They formed a line that stretched as far as the living army itself, standing guard against the incoming foe who, upon seeing them, halted in their tracks for a good long while. But then, at the command of their generals, the orcs and wargs began to charge forth.

Elsa made a silent motion, and with a unanimous roar her snow warriors charged with great speed, raising their swords in defiance and ready to take on the enemy. The orcs and wargs who first met them surely and immediately regretted it; the towering snow warriors met them with unbridled ferocity, slicing, smashing, and crushing all who were unfortunate to stand in their way. They soon came upon the trolls as well, and here the battle was raised to a whole new level; the two opponents, evenly matched size for size, engaged each other in a titanic clash, but it became clear that Elsa's snow giants far outranked the trolls in combat skill, overwhelming them greatly.

This caused a great cheer from the human and elven soldiers who watched this occur, until they were bidden to continue reforming the line. Eventually Gandalf himself arrived, and with great admiration said, "Well done, Elsa! I never doubted you for a second."

"Thank you," Elsa said, "But this battle's only begun."

"Indeed," the wizard agreed.

For half an hour the snow warriors continued to fight the enemy relentlessly, but then the orcs began to have the upper hand over them, using grappling hooks to pull down the giants and slicing off their limbs (though the snow warriors continued to fight in spite of this). Fortunately the elves and men had been given enough time to gather together, and as a united force the two armies faced toward their enemy, ready to take them on. At their leader's command, the archers sent forth a volley of arrows, felling a great number of orcs and wargs. A second volley was sent further up into the air towards the bats that came swooping towards them; while many dropped from the sky, a good number came close enough to slash at the soldiers with their claws, causing panic amongst the less stalwart among them. Fortunately this was quelled in time for the generals to rally the forces together, encouraging them to fight for honor, glory, and the safety of their homes and families.

"At the ready!" Bard shouted, "Charge!"

At the signal, the two armies charged forth. Elsa found herself charging with them, and for once in her life she was glad to do so; at long last she was going to fight for something greater than gold. Summoning forth a blast of freezing wind, she stunned the lines of orcs ahead of her, allowing the soldiers to draw the orc's blood first, and officially beginning the battle.

In that battle, time became lost in the chaos and confusion, especially with the wings of the bats blotting out the sun up above; swords sang as they clashed against swords and shields, while lives on both sides were snuffed out all around. There was no thought, rhyme, or reasoning for Elsa as she fought on; her main concern was staying alive and defeating the enemy. Keeping in mind that both ally and enemy were around her, she was careful to keep her attacks specific and at close range, depriving her of the chance to slay her enemies in a single fell swoop. She made up for it by working hard and fast, freezing the vitals of the orcs and wargs that came her way, some even to the point where their limbs could be crystallized and shattered into hundreds of pieces. Several times she received a cut or was bruised by the swipe of a fist, but it wasn't anything that she couldn't handle. Several times she observed those fighting alongside her; the men fought with great valor and strength, sometimes fending off more than five orcs at a time, while the elves dealt death with speed, grace, and unmatched precision.

At first, she felt confident in their chances at emerging victorious. But as time went on, the tide began to turn; for every orc that fell, more and more seemed to take their place, slowly beginning to overwhelm their opponents. This caused her to wonder and worry; why hadn't the dwarves arrived? Was Thorin truly so obsessed with the treasure that he dare bid Dain and his army not to fight off the enemy?

As she dispatched one opponent, another, this one being an unusually large orc bearing a heavy shield and a club, came forth to greet her. The fiend roared as it charged forth; Elsa sent a bolt of frost his way, but her enemy blocked it with his shield, and proceeded to knock her over with the shaft of his spear. She collided with a ridge of stone, stunning her temporarily with brutal pain. Falling onto the ground, she caused icicles to burst out of the ground towards him, but even these failed to breach his shield—however, they did manage to punch through the chainmail on his leg and cause blood to gush out from his thigh. Bashing them away, the orc limped forth, determined to slay her. Elsa struggled to get back onto her feet in time, but soon it was too late; the orc raised his club high, roaring at the top of his lungs…but then was knocked over by a dwarf that landed on top of him, who delivered a killing blow as he came down.

"Thorin?" Elsa gasped.

Soon, they were joined by the other dwarves, who came onto the scene and set upon the orcs and wargs with enormous ferocity. Above the other sounds of war, Elsa could hear the roaring and squealing of an enormous boar, along with shouts of glee and madness. Thorin left to take on other orcs before Elsa could speak to him, followed closely by Fili and Kili, but then Bofur and Bombur arrived to help Elsa back onto her feet, saying, "Now, now, there's no lying down on the job there, your majesty!"

"You came to help!" she said, amazed.

"Well of course we came!" Bofur answered, "We couldn't sit this one out! True, we had to knock over a wall to do it, but we're glad to help"

"But what about the elves?" she asked, "I thought you wouldn't do anything unless they were gone."

"Well, I guess Thorin decided to let it go." Bofur replied, "The elves aren't as bad as orcs, after all."

And soon the battle commenced again; with Bifur joining them, Elsa continued to fight the good fight. Once again she lost track of time in the heat of battle, but she refused to back down, for now she was motivated by a newfound joy in the new union between the elves, dwarves and men in this battle of four armies. On and on she went; the dwarves around her were careful enough to keep track of how many fell to their weapons, but Elsa never bothered to; it all went by so fast for her.

Suddenly, she felt something cold and sharp strike her in the back, slicing open the skin and spilling out her own blood. Screaming out in pain, she fell onto the ground again, and through the corner of her eye, she could see the orc that did the deed, the edge of his blade dripping with blood…her blood. The other dwarves set upon the attacker, but the agony soon began to overwhelm her. Slowly she felt the world began to spin and turn dark, but the last thing she saw was the light bursting through the cloud of bats, and the huge silhouette of an eagle soaring overhead, carrying a warg in its talons. But soon darkness overtook her, and she could think no more…


	19. Chapter 19: Certain State of Mind

Elsa was lost in a silent void where time had no influence on her. She felt herself being pulled back and forth at random, as if the tide of the sea was pulling her away from the shore. Now and then she saw a hazy light, heard inaudible voices, and felt something touching her skin, but to her it was the same as the dreams and memories that passed by her eyes. She relived episodes of her life, but these moments were random and fleeting. She felt happiness, despair, anger, and fear on seemingly every level possible all at once…but it hardly mattered, for she did not react to them. Thought and knowledge had departed her, and now, with every moment of her life being played over again, all she wanted to do was to be free of the pain that she had brought upon others and upon herself, somehow, someway…

_Elsa…_

But then she felt herself being drawn away; something was tugging at the very fabric of her being.

_Elsa…Please come back…_

The whirlwind of dreams and memories began to fade away, and she regained her senses, though she still remained locked within the void.

_Elsa…don't leave me!_

Then suddenly, Elsa found herself in a dark room, with only a piercing light to illuminate where she was…but where was that? Was this the afterlife? Was this Purgatory, where she would be judged for her sins? Or was it some other place else entirely?

"Elsa!" a voice said, "It's me!"

She knew exactly who it was, but she dared not to turn around.

"Anna," she whispered, "Am I dead?"

"What? No, of course not; just hovering, I think…"

"Then leave me be!" she pleaded, "I have had enough of these visions; how much more torment, how much more do I need to atone for my mistakes?"

"No seriously, it's me, Anna! I'm really talking to you, right now!"

Relenting, Elsa turned around to see her sister. But still, her heart couldn't believe what she saw before her, standing in that dark room.

"So you're not a hallucination?" she asked.

"Of course not! I've been right here the whole time—well, not HERE here, I'm actually sitting in the snow right now, freezing my butt off."

"Back in Arendelle? How are you talking to me, then?"

"It's kind of a long, really complicated story," Anna explained, "After you left and the storm moved in, I ran all over the place trying to find you. But then I met this one guy, and he found these weird glowing stones right next to your tracks—at least, he said they were your tracks…"

"Star Gems…" Elsa whispered.

"Yeah, right! Anyway, I went to see these trolls, and they said they took you to a whole other world! I wanted to go after you, but for some reason I couldn't; I can't really remember why. But the head troll said that I could talk to you through them, send a projection of myself to see you; all I had to do was think of you, and boom! Here we are, talking to each other…with our minds! Isn't that crazy? I've even been able to see what you've been up to, and Elsa, you've been AMAZING."

"Then why have I only been able to see you every now and then?" Elsa asked, "And why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Well, because I only could when you were open to it," Anna explaind, "and also because I didn't think you'd believe me if I said, 'Hey Elsa, I'm talking to you with my brain!' I know I wouldn't believe it if it were me."

Given all that she had been through, Elsa was almost ready to believe what Anna was saying…but no, she couldn't. It couldn't be possible that this really was her sister, after so long; it was too good to be true…

"Tell me something I don't know," she demanded.

"What?" Anna said, confused.

"You said you were able to see into my mind; for all I know, you could be some obscure part of my subconscious taking the shape of my sister, using my memories."

"Elsa, I already told you, I'm not a hallucination!"

"Then prove it. Tell me something that I couldn't possibly have known about beforehand, something that only you and you alone, would know out of either of us."

Anna rolled her eyes, scrunched up her nose, and was silent for a minute before she said anything. "Um…" she started, "…Hans and I broke up."

"What?"

"You know, Hans! The guy I was going to get married to, but then you left and froze everything? I thought about what you said when I asked you to bless the marriage, and I figured that, yeah, you were right. I was moving too fast. So we broke up…well, actually he tried to kill me when no one was looking, and I had him banished back to where he came from, but yeah, same idea. Anyway, I've been seeing this other guy, Kristoff, and we're going to take it slow, this time."

There was no hint of insincerity in her voice. At first, Elsa was overjoyed at the fact that Anna was alive and well, but then her heart sank as she realized what else was true.

"So, it's really bad back home, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah," Anna admitted, her usual cheeriness becoming quite subdued, "It's gotten pretty cold, that much is true."

"And it's all my fault…Anna, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. But why couldn't you have told me about your powers sooner?"

"I just wanted to protect you," Elsa explained, "I wanted to protect everyone. But I was wrong. All my life I've tried to hold it in…and now look what's happened. I should never have left home."

"Well, it's okay," Anna said, perking up, "You can just come back home and unfreeze everything!"

"No I can't! There's no way I can get the Star Gems now, and even if I came home, I don't know how I could undo the storm."

"Sure you can! I know you can…somehow! Elsa, I promise that we'll find a way to fix this, together."

Then Elsa felt herself being pulled away again, and the warmth of light bathing her as well.

"Just promise me," Anna asked, "Promise me that you'll come back, if not for Arendelle, then for me…and that you won't shut me out again. I'm so tired of being alone…"

There was nothing that Elsa wanted more than to embrace her sister again, and the smaller and smaller Anna became, the greater that desire grew.

"I have to take care of a few things first," she said.

Anna smiled, and said "See you later, then."

Then, she vanished into the distance; the darkness of the void was replaced by blinding light, and Elsa felt life flow back into her again…


	20. Chapter 20: Last Spell of Winter

Slowly, Elsa began to become aware of her own self again, though the world continued to be dark. Her body was enveloped in a soft warm feeling which, upon further investigation, turned out to be the result of a thin blanket spread over her. She felt something rough and paper-like squeeze her body every time she breathed; was it bandages? It had to be; there was also a slight pain that accompanied it, causing her to moan.

"Easy, now," a voice said.

She recognized the voice instantly. "…Gandalf," she groaned, "What happened?"

"You were struck from behind and fainted from the loss of blood for several hours," the wizard's voice replied, "But you've made quite the recovery. You'll still need to rest for a while, but the worst you'll walk away with is a prominent scar on your back."

Elsa blinked her eyes open, and as her vision cleared, she saw Gandalf sitting across from her, his arm in a sling. Turning her head, she saw that they both were in a large tent with several other soldiers in casts and bandages, with nurses running to and fro and tending to the wounded.

"The battle," she whispered, "Did we…?"

"Yes," Gandalf replied, "We have won the battle. The orcs have been defeated and driven off. But not without great cost, as surely any battle has and will."

Elsa sighed, partly out of relief that the chaos had been dealt with, and partly out of despair for those who had fallen. Then the thought struck her. "Gandalf," she asked, "What about your business in Dol Guldur? What happened there?"

"I'm sorry for worrying you all, my dear," Gandalf replied, "I was delayed. But fortunately the evil that dwells there has been driven off, and now Mirkwood will become Greenwood again, as in days of old."

"I still wouldn't step foot in there again, though," she said.

"And why is that?"

"Let's just say I'm not as comfortable around spiders as I once was."

"From what I've heard, I don't blame you," Gandalf chuckled.

No more words were spoken for a while as Elsa laid there in her bed; eventually they gave to her a strange tasting water to drink, and she found the strength to stand up on her own two feet again, much to her relief. She headed straight for the exit, with Gandalf following close behind.

She stepped outside the tent into a chill grey winter evening and discovered she stood the area between the front gate of Erebor and the city ruins; up beyond, she could see that the wall in front of the gate had been thrown down and now lay in pieces of rock and ice, further evidence of Thorin's change of heart, and it made her feel much better than she had before. But then she saw everything else; the survivors of the original three armies nursing injuries and the dead, of dwarves, elves, men, and orcs alike, scattered everywhere across the landscape, their ravaged carcasses being picked and pecked at by crows and vultures. She even saw piles of snow lying in random places with spears and swords jabbed into them, a testament to the bravery of her own soldiers. All in all, it was a terrible sight to see.

"I hoped that we could avoid this," Elsa said to Gandalf, "It's so awful…must it always be this way?"

"At least the battle wasn't between those who had once been friends," Gandalf replied, "That would have been the true tragedy. Yes, war and miserable death will exist so long as hatred exists. But for now, we have achieved hope for a brighter future."

"Perhaps…" she said quietly, and then she asked, "Wait, have you seen Bilbo?"

"I'm afraid I haven't," Gandalf said, "Not since the battle ended."

She started to get worried. What happened to him after she ran to the front lines? Had he ran to the safety of the city? Had he joined the battle as well? And if so, had he…no, she didn't dare to think of it. But what if he did? What then?

Leaving Gandalf behind (who quietly returned to the main concentration of tents), she ran to and wandered across the miserable panorama, wondering if the hobbit's body was being stripped apart by buzzards as well. There had to be some way to find him, but how? The battlefield stretched as far as the eye could see, and could she bring herself to search the dead?

But this time she noticed something coming towards them in the distance. At first she thought it to be another of the Lake Town Soldiers, seeing how the figure wore similar armor and garb, but as it drew closer, she could tell that it was far too short to be a human, or even a dwarf…

"Bilbo?" she whispered.

On drawing closer, the figure suddenly looked up, and started shouting and waving his hand wildly at the sight of her, then burst into a run up the hill.

"Bilbo!" she shouted, and started running towards him. Before too long, they had both met, and she caught him in her embrace, laughing out loud and tears flooding down her face.

"What happened?" she asked, "I thought you were dead!"

"Nope!" Bilbo replied gladly as he knocked on the steel helmet he wore upon his crown, "Just got conked on the head with a rock; been out for hours. Terrible luck, really, if you ask me. From what I could tell, I missed the important parts of the battle."

"Well then," Elsa said, "I'm just glad to see you alive, again!"

Gandalf came up from behind and concurred, saying, "Indeed, so am I! I was beginning to be afraid that your luck would run out, but truly there is more to you two than meets the eye!" But then the cheery glimmer in his eyes faded away, and his countenance became sad and mournful. "But we have other business to attend to. The two of you have been called for; Thorin is waiting for us."

"He's alive?" Elsa asked.

"…Hopefully," came the wizard's reply as he turned back to camp. Bilbo and Elsa looked at each other worriedly; she, for one, was afraid that she knew what Gandalf had implied.

They followed Gandalf through the camp in a slow procession, passing by the other soldiers, some of whom looked up at Elsa with admiration, when once before they had looked upon her with a mixture of fear and wonder. After some time, they came upon a large red tent where there were gathered together a great number of dwarves and a few men and elves just outside the entrance. Elsa immediately picked out Dwalin, Balin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and Glóin from the crowd, and they recognized her and Bilbo as well. Some glimmer of relief and joy showed in their eyes at the sight of the two of them, along with a flicker of a smile. However, dread and grief overshadowed it, and they said nothing as Gandalf pulled aside the tent door, and allowed them to step inside.

There, they found a terrible sight; there lay Thorin, wrapped up in bandages and linen clothe, his body beaten, bruised and riddled with cuts and wounds, and his face turned a deathly pale. But still he breathed—though barely, and with a great deal of effort. Next to the bed there lay his beaten and dented armor, along with his damaged sword and cracked shield. Óin stood next to the bed, dabbing the Dwarf King's brow with a wet cloth, but looking as though he had given up hope. He turned to see the three of them with much surprise, but much sorrow as well; departing Thorin's side, he came up to them.

"He hasn't got much longer," he said softly, "The damage is too great; there's nothing more I can do."

"But Gandalf," Elsa said, "can't you…?"

"I'm sorry, Elsa," the wizard whispered, "but not even magic can save him now; he is too close to death's door." As Óin stepped out, Gandalf stepped towards Thorin, saying, "I have brought them."

At his motion, Bilbo and Elsa came close enough for them to hear the rasps of Thorin's voice as he spoke to them.

"Bilbo…Elsa," he said, "I'm glad you're here. Now…I can do good and set some things right between us, before I go. I have been a stubborn old fool; I believed that I could undo what my grandfather's greed had brought upon him and all around the mountain and rule Erebor anew. I believed that I was immune to his avarice. I thought that the only ones worthy of my respect were the most hardened and skilled of warriors, and that I could never forgive those who I had thought wronged me. But I was wrong, in all respects. You two are the most honorable and valiant warriors I have ever met, not because of skill, but because of your heart, and the friendship we shared is worth more than all the gold and silver in Erebor. I would take back what I said and what I did at the gate, and ask that we part as friends. Bilbo, good thief, that _mithril_ skirt I gave you is indeed a prized gift, but now you can have as much treasure and gold as you desire."

"Farewell, King Under the Mountain," Bilbo said, his voice wavering and tears welling up in his eyes, "This is more than I, or any Baggins, deserves."

"No, Bilbo," Thorin said, "There is more good in you than you know, kindly child of the west. You have shown greater bravery than I could ever imagine, and I only wish that I could reward you more." He then spoke to Elsa, saying, "And Elsa, daughter of the winter storm, I have left you a gift as well; I intended to give it to you sooner, but we both know what has happened. In the throne room, you will find a chest with your name on it; you may take any other treasure that you please as well, but I beg you to take that chest with you; it, along with the rest of the treasure, is of no worth where I go now."

"Thorin, please," she said, "I'm sorry for what I…"

"Don't be," he replied, "You were right all along, and I was blind to everything. I was the monster. I should never have doubted either of you two in the slightest." He then turned his head upwards, and sighed, "Oh, if more of us valued food, cheer, song, and the companionship of others above hoarded gold, it would be a happier world. But whatever it must be, I must leave it now."

And with that, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain, sighed his last breath. Then he was gone, and Elsa could almost feel the strength and power of his soul departing the once proud and noble warrior.

* * *

><p>The funeral was held shortly afterwards; it was only there that Elsa discovered that Fili and Kili had died as well, fighting to protect their uncle. She wondered if Kili had ever fully admitted to Thorin his feelings for Tauriel, and if it had any effect on him afterwards. She wondered this because at the funeral, she noticed that at the burial, Thranduil himself had spoken both great and kind words concerning Thorin Oakenshield, whereas once she had heard contempt in his voice in regards to him. But then again, that very well could have easily been because of what happened at the battle.<p>

The funeral for the King Under the Mountain was, as one might've expected, quite lavish and solemn, even in the aftermath of war; Bard himself placed the Arkenstone upon Thorin's chest, and once the lid on the vault was placed over the body of its occupant, Elsa felt some amount of satisfaction, now that the cursed jewel was gone, never to afflict the living again. Then, in a rather touching moment, Thranduil came forth and placed the sword Orcrist upon the tomb, where it would stay forever more. The two brothers, meanwhile, were with their uncle buried side by side, but before the lid of the coffin closed upon him forever, she saw Legolas come forward and place Tauriel's bow inside Kili's cold hand.

With that, Thorin and his nephews were buried alongside their forefathers, at long last within their rightful home, never to be driven out again.

A grand feast was held later that night in Erebor's very own banquet halls, in honor of those who had fallen in defense of their respective peoples. There was of course much celebrating, feasting, congratulating, and especially drinking and joking amongst the dwarves, but even the elves got in a good laugh or two along the way. While there, Elsa was surprised to find that Beorn himself was at the feast, though at a fair enough distance away from the dwarves, still quiet and intimidating as usual; she learned from Dwalin that Beorn, as a bear, arrived with the Eagles during the battle and helped to turn the tide away from the orc's favor. He had even slain Bolg when the fierce orc had nearly beaten Thorin, and was the one who rescued the wounded Dwarf King, carrying him away in his massive paws. During that time, seeing how Thorin had left no heirs, it was announced that Dain would be crowned king of Erebor in his place, seeing how he was Thorin's closest relation, an announcement that brought forth a huge burst of merriment and applause from the audience.

However, that was all that Elsa heard before she quietly snuck away to the Throne Room, with hardly anyone noticing her. Though she was greeted by many men and dwarves showering her with praise along the way, Elsa managed to get through the halls and find her way to the massive doors efficiently enough, as no one dared question where she went. That was good enough for her; all she needed to do was to see what was in that chest that Thorin spoke of before.

Briefly turning to make sure that no one was watching, which they weren't, Elsa pulled open the enormous doors as carefully as she could, and stepped inside an enormous hall where, flanked by a row of huge dwarf soldier statues on either side, a long narrow bridge (without any handrails, by the way; didn't anyone in this world believe in those?) trailed towards a massive stalactite with a seam of gold snaking through it, the tip of which connected to a throne made of the same stone as everything else around it, the back embedded with a curious golden symbol.

Upon its seat was a small wooden chest. Realizing that it had to be the one Thorin spoke of, she hurried her way up to the throne. Kneeling down, she laid her hand upon the lid, and slowly lifted up, realizing that it was unlocked.

Almost immediately, a great light burst forth from the chest and, nearly blinding her and forcing her to shield her eyes for a moment. After that, she lowered her arm and saw the contents; white jewels that glowed with their own power filled the chest, the largest of which sat on top. Curious, she plucked one of these jewels in her fingers and held it close to her eyes…and couldn't believe what the saw. In each individual facet, she saw visions of people dressed in strange clothing that she had never seen before and riding around in horseless carriages, huge reptiles that resembled but weren't quite dragons, ships made of metal that soared past huge worlds, and countless other things that she couldn't possibly comprehend or understand.

Then it dawned on her; these were the Star Gems, which meant that Elrond, Thranduil, and Smaug had been right all along, which meant that there were other worlds out there…which meant that she could go home.

It also dawned on her that she had no idea how to do that, which meant that she would have to speak to Thranduil himself.

That alone made her quite nervous, seeing how well her last encounter with him had gone. But even then, it had to be done; her kingdom needed her, and it needed her now.

Placing the gem back inside, she closed the chest tightly, and holding it under her arm, ran back to the exit, her footsteps propelled by the thought of how wonderful it would be to see Anna again. But just as she was a few paces away, the door opened, and in stepped Legolas. She stopped in her tracks, the chill of fear gripping her heart.

"There you are, Elsa," Legolas said, "They've proposed a toast for you down in the banquet…" He paused, seeing the chest in her arm. At the sight of it, his eyes grew wide with recognition. "The Star Gems…how did you…?"

"I—I found them," she stammered, "I'm going to return them to your father."

The Elf Prince stepped towards her, his hands reaching for the chest. "Why don't I just save you the trouble?" he asked, but as he attempted to take it, she yanked it away from his reach. At first he was surprised at her reaction, but then he began to glare. "You thief!" he whispered.

"No, please," she said, "I need them!"

"So you can sell them for a higher price?" Legolas questioned, "You have no idea what sort of power lies within those gems…"

"Yes I do," she answered, "I need them to get back home!"

This stopped him in his tracks. "What?" he whispered.

"Yes, it's true," she admitted, "I'm from another world, and my homeland there is in danger. I'm the only one who can do anything about it. Legolas, I promise you, I am going to take these to your father, because he's the only one who knows how to use them. Just please, let me go. You have my word."

At first, Legolas seemed hesitant to believe her, still staring into her soul with those piercing blue eyes. But to her great relief, he relaxed. "From another world, you say? Truly? My father spoke very little of this…but it explains a great deal" he said, and then added, "Very well then, go."

"You believe me?" she asked.

"There is no falsehood in your eyes," he explained, "And I respect the word of a warrior as great as you are…besides, it matters not what I do for my father, anyways."

This caught her by surprise. She asked, "Why not? What happened?"

"I cannot return to my homeland," He replied, "I have lost my honor."

"Where will you go?"

"To the north," he explained, "There is someone I must meet; a Ranger of the Dunedain my father calls Strider."

"Well," she replied, "I hope your journey goes well…and I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused."

"No apology is needed," he said as he stepped out of her way, "Go now."

She thanked him and went on her way down the stairs and through the halls, hardly believing how well that went and thanking goodness that things had worked out as well as they had. Now all she had to do was find Thranduil himself and she would be home free.

But then a voice stopped her in the dark. "So, you're really going home, now?"

She turned around and saw Bilbo standing there, looking quite despondent. "You're just going to walk away…without saying goodbye," he went on, "Is that it?"

Guilt and anguish struck her, and struck her hard. He was right; how could she walk away without saying something at all, and without any warning?

"I'm so sorry, Bilbo," she sighed, "Truly I am. But I really do need to return to Arendelle."'

"Oh no, I do, I do understand," he said, "It's just that…I didn't think it would be so soon. I thought that…"

She walked up to him, and knelt down onto the ground so that they were both at eyelevel. "Bilbo," she started, "When you asked me to come with you to Bag End, I really meant it when I said yes. I would love to visit the Shire, maybe stay there. I would love to see everything you've told me about, and so much more…but it just can't be. I've helped to save one kingdom; now I have to save my own…somehow."

"Will I ever see you again?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied.

"Thought not," he said quietly, "I'll tell the others you said farewell."

With a heavy heart, Elsa thanked him, stood back up onto her feet, and started to walk away. But before she took a third step…

"Elsa, wait," the hobbit said.

She turned around in surprise. "What is it?" she asked.

"A couple of nights ago," Bilbo started, "you asked me something…something that I wasn't able to answer at the time-not correctly, anyway."

"Yes?" Elsa concurred, "And?"

Bilbo then lifted his hand, lowered it into his pocket, and with seemingly great effort lifted it out again, clutching something within his fist. His whole arm trembling, he lifted his hand palm upwards, and uncurled his fingers, saying, "This is what I found in the Goblin Tunnels. This is what I had in my pocket."

She stepped forward to take a closer look. In the palm of his hand was a small, plain gold ring.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, and then almost immediately deposited the ring back into his pocket. "It, erm, makes me invisible."

"Well then," she smiled, "that explains a lot! But why didn't you show me sooner?"

"Yes, it is rather silly of me…and yet the thing is that, I don't know. It's really very strange…but I will say this, I'm glad to get it off of my chest. Anyway, I guess it doesn't matter, now. No more burglaring for this hobbit, no thank you! I'll just put it on my mantelpiece as a nice souvenir." He then sighed, and then said, "I'm going to miss you, you know. I mean, it's not every day that I meet someone…you know, someone like you."

"Me too," she said.

Then they embraced, holding each other closely and enjoying the feel of each other's body for what seemed like the longest time.

Once they separated, Elsa put her hands together, and with her powers she fashioned a small snowflake medallion and necklace of ice. She gave it to Bilbo, saying, "Here's something to remember me by. It won't melt; I made that sure of that."

"Thank you…your majesty," Bilbo said, "Oh, and if, on the off chance you ever happen to stop by at Bag End, teatime's at four, and don't bother to knock."

"Thank you," she said, smiling.

And with that, they parted ways, holding the memory of their time together forever in their hearts.

Peering through the door into the banquet hall, Elsa saw that King Thranduil was absent at the feast. Fortunately, she knew very well of where his tent laid, so she started walking her way there, stepping out of the dark kingdom halls and into the cold night air, making sure not to trip over any chunks of ice and rock as she made her way.

Middle Earth, she thought as she walked, she had traveled over so much of it, and yet somehow she still hadn't gotten to know it quite as well as she probably should have. She felt that there was so much more to this world that she hadn't known, so many other peoples, and so many dangers as well…but even then, she had to accept the fact that priorities were priorities. Besides, she had had enough adventuring…for now.

Approaching the city gate, she saw Gandalf standing there. "Elsa!" he said, "I've been looking for you all evening. And I see that you have found Thorin's gift!"

"Yes," she said, "Could you point me to King Thranduil? I need to speak with him about something."

"First, though," Gandalf said, "Could I speak with you somewhere in private?"

"Um…sure," she said, and followed the wizard past the gate, through the winding streets, up the stairs, and finally to a small dwelling set against a tower. The soft glow of firelight could be seen in the window.

"Come on inside," the wizard beckoned as he opened the wooden door, "There's someone that I would like you to meet."

At first she felt nervous, but relenting, she stepped inside, letting the warmth wash over her. The place itself was a mess, clearly having been abandoned for a long time, though largely free of scorch marks, but what caught Elsa's attention was the Elven Woman standing in the corner; she had long, flowing hair of gold, eyes of sapphire that looked upon her with warmth and kindness, an elegant yet strong face, and smooth, unflawed skin. She bore a small crown upon her head, and wore a dress that seemed to Elsa as if it were sown from water. Overall, she carried an ethereal grace about her, and Elsa was convinced that if any elf were an angel, this one had to be.

"Queen Elsa," Gandalf said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, "Allow me to introduce Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien."

Realizing her status, Elsa was forced to recall a large amount of etiquette and manners in a short amount of time; standing up straight and dusting herself off, she asked, "And to what do I owe the pleasure of meeting such an esteemed person?"

"Your world, Elsa," Galadriel said in a deep, soothing voice, "it calls you home."

At first Elsa was surprised. "You know?" she asked, and then turning to Gandalf, "You knew this whole time?"

"Of course we did," Gandalf replied, "Like I said, such magic as you possess is not found in Middle Earth. By the way, so does Elrond."

"Then you know that I need to speak with Thranduil," Elsa replied, "He's the only one who knows how to use these."

"Actually, no, he isn't alone. But we have spoken with Thranduil," Gandalf explained, "And he has agreed to relinquish the Star Gems."

"Why?" Elsa asked, growing more confused, "Why is that?"

"There is a shadow growing, Elsa" Galadriel explained, "It had taken root in Dol Guldur for some time, going under the name of 'The Necromancer'. At first we of the White Council were under the impression that it was nothing more than a human sorcerer. But things turned out differently; in reality, this shadow's true name is Sauron, the Dark Lord."

Sauron…for some reason, the name filled her with dread.

"That army of orcs that we had fought was sent under his bidding," Gandalf continued, "Had those forces defeated the armies of men, elves, and dwarves, it would have crippled the north, and weakened the defenses of the free peoples of Middle Earth. And had Smaug not been slain, Sauron surely would have used him to terrible effect."

"What does this have to do with me?" Elsa asked.

"For thousands of years, the existence of the Star Gems and their powers was kept a secret from the forces of evil," Galadriel explained, "We have driven the Shadow out of Mirkwood, but even then the world remains in danger. If Sauron and his allies were to become fully aware of you, where you came from, and of how you arrived here, he would attempt to obtain the Star Gems, and use them to spread his evil across many worlds. For that reason, we must return you home at once, and you must take the Star Gems with you, to keep them safe."

"You mean I can never come back again?" Elsa asked, thinking of Bilbo.

"I'm afraid that is the way that it has to be," Gandalf said, "Do not misunderstand; you have been a great and marvelous friend and ally, and I for one am thankful for the time I have gotten to know you. But what must be done…"

"Has to be done," Elsa finished for him, "I understand…but Gandalf, my home, it's in terrible danger—danger that I put it in. How can I go back after what I've done? How can I face my people again? I don't even know how I can fix it…how I can face my sister…"

Galadriel stepped forward, almost gliding rather than walking, and held her hands in her own. "Do not fear, Elsa of Arendelle," she said, "The answer may lie within; the love you have within you has lead you this far; let it continue to do so, and it will thaw the fear that hinders you, as it has done so."

Elsa wasn't quite sure of what that meant, but she politely thanked Galadriel anyway.

"Oh, yes, there's one more item that needs to be addressed, "Gandalf said. He then opened the door behind him again, and said, "Come on in, now!"

In walked a very small snowman that for a moment was distracted by the glowing fireplace, but then looked up at Elsa with large, beaming eyes of polished ice and a wide smile. "Hi!" he said, "I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs! You built me…remember that?"

"Of course I do," Elsa said.

"It's lucky that we were able to find him," Gandalf explained, "before anything terrible happened to him; you won't believe how many people were running terrified at the sight of this fellow. You'll have to take him with you, too."

"Take me where?" Olaf asked.

"Home," Elsa replied.

"Where's that?" the little snowman asked.

"You'll see in a moment." Elsa then handed Gandalf the chest she had been holding. He then unlatched it, exposing the bright light within, and plucked out two of the Star Gems.

"Now, you hold these in your hand," Gandalf explained, "and focus on Arendelle as much as you can. We will do the rest." He then instructed Olaf to hold on to Elsa tightly, while he and Galadriel stepped backward, raising their hands and breathed deeply.

But then, another thought came to Elsa. "Wait," she said, "Gandalf, could you promise me something, before I go?"

"Of course, Elsa."

"Watch over Bilbo for me," she asked, "I'm…I'm worried about him. He's been acting strange, lately."

Gandalf at first seemed quite confused, but then smiled and said, "Of course, Elsa. I'll keep in touch with him."

"Thank you," she smiled, content with the promise, and then closed her eyes, listening to the sound of Elvish being spoken by the two of them. Sooner than she could acknowledge it, the world suddenly seemed to dissolve away. Elsa opened her eyes again, and found herself in a flurry of what looked like broken pieces of glass that spun faster and faster around her in a whirlwind. She closed her eyes again, and held on for dear life, not knowing what would happen to her…

But then the winds died away, and where once Elsa had felt the warmth of fire, now she felt cold dry air again—along with Olaf's wooden arms latched on to her leg. Except, this air seemed to be familiar…

She opened her eyes again, and found herself and Olaf standing in a forest of pines covered in deep snow in the dead of night. For some reason, she didn't feel any pain in her body; as far as she could tell, the cuts and scars were gone. Though she couldn't explain how, she even felt younger, too.

"Elsa?" a voice said.

Slowly, Elsa turned around, almost hesitant to look. But her heart leapt within her at the sight of her sister. "You did it!" Anna cheered, "You really did it! I mean, I knew you could, there was never any doubt, but man! These have got to be the longest four months I've ever been through! This is fantastic!"

Four months? Elsa thought, it hadn't been four months, it had to have been…but what did it matter? She was home!

The two of them ran to each other through the deep snow, Elsa dropping the chest along the way. As soon as they could, they wrapped each other in her arms, and for the first time in forever, Elsa couldn't have felt happier to see her sister again.

The End


	21. Epilogue

It was late into a cool spring night in the Shire, but one particular hobbit had not quite yet retired to bed. In fact, he meant not to; he had an itch growing on him that had been doing so for years, and as much as he had tried to ignore it, it was not about to go away without the proper medication. That adventure he had gone through all those years ago…those experiences still lived with him, worming around inside of him, wanting to be freed. Oh yes, he had filled the heads of young children with tales of trolls, goblins, and dragons every now and then, but that had been only a short reprieve from the itch. On top of that, he felt the years bearing down on him; how much longer did he expect to live? How much longer could he keep the stories locked up inside of his brain, only to see the light of day when he shared snippets with those who failed to take him seriously or would forget what he had told them with the passing of the years? Who would remember the stories when he passed through the Gates at long last?

There was only one solution to the problem, only one way to scratch the itch. Lighting a candle, he tread very carefully down the hall, so as not to disturb his sleeping nephew, and entered his study, which by now was cluttered thoroughly with stacks of books and old maps that he had pored over the past couple of days. After lighting the fireplace, he went over to an old chest that had sat in the corner for some time. How long it had been, however, he had lost track of. He lifted the lid up, and he felt somewhat nostalgic at the sight of Sting lying there amongst his things. He wondered, how long ago had it been since he had last held it? No, that wasn't important, now. He reached underneath the sword and plucked out a book bound in red leather. He flipped it open to the first page, and found himself staring back from an old yellow piece of parchment. No, this was a sketch of a younger him, from long ago. He chuckled a bit at the young hobbit immortalized in ink, and at the same time felt the weight of sixty years on his shoulders. He thumbed through the rest of the book, finding the pages to be all blank, ready for ink to darken their surfaces. Yes, this should do the trick, he thought; this will be most prudent to my cause…

But then he noticed something glimmer deep where the book had lain. Curious, he reached in, and at first was surprised to find cold greeting his fingers. But then he remembered, and gingerly grasping the cold object, lifted it out of the chest.

Tears came to his eyes as he gazed upon the snowflake medallion in his hand, with the necklace trailing through his fingers. It glistened and gleamed as it had done so for years; truly the giver of this gift had spoken truly concerning its longevity, for there was no sign of wear or melting. The tears ran down even more so as the memories of the giver came back to him, and though the years had dimmed his memory, he could very well remember the elegance of her stride, the luster of her soft white braided hair, and the shimmer of her sapphire eyes…where was she now? Had she restored her kingdom? Had she found someone else, become a mother, and grown old? Had she gone the way of all the earth? There was no way that he could be certain…but he felt certain that she was happy, and he was happy for her. But now, the more that he thought of her, the more that he wanted to see her again. What he wouldn't give to do so…

He then looked towards the window of his study; outside, he could see the soft moonlight, glowing like the work of her hands.

A very strange thought came to him; where was this kingdom of hers? She had never really quite given him an exact location, had she?

He looked down at the book in his hands. Was it enough to merely record what he had gone through?

At that moment, he took a very deep breath, and decided that, very soon, he would be taking a very long holiday. He knew at least some of the places and some of the friends where he would visit. But there was one kingdom in particular that he didn't know how to find…well, he figured, she had to be somewhere out there in the world. At the very least, he owed her a visit, and though he indeed felt very old, he still felt quite ready for another adventure.

Perhaps it would be best to depart after his One Hundred and Eleventieth birthday party.

**Thank you so much for the support and reviews, you guys! This has been quite an adventure, indeed!**

**But this story is far from over: check out _Frost Along the Road _to see what happens next!**


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